Skinwalker
by riverofmemories
Summary: After confronting a young British woman about a dog that mysteriously appears at several crime scenes, the Winchesters gain an ally in their war against what comes knocking in the dark of the night. Except this ally may or may not be one of the very things they're determined to kill.
1. Alex

She hummed quietly as she tipped her chair back, sipping contently at the whisky in her glass. It was filled a little more than she normally would have had it, but she didn't care. It tasted beautifully after the day she'd had. She licked a few drops from her lips, her icy blue eyes watching the bar around her. Red-blonde hair tickled her cheeks from where it had slid free of its bindings, and she was sweating in her leather jacket, but she didn't care.

Her job had been a difficult mission, one she'd taken on alone as usual. It should have gone to someone who had a partner. But Alexandriana Montgomery, or Alex to very few who knew of her, was alone. She rather disliked working with other people, as usually when she did so they ended up trying to kill her.

The door opened and closed and Alex's shoulders tightened as two men came in. Both were dressed formally, in trim black suits. She eyed them suspiciously. _Feds_ …?

No, she realized, looking at their cautious faces as they held up badges to the bartender. They weren't FBI. They were hunters like her, making it their goal in life to take down as many things that went bump in the night as they could before they went down swinging. They were both stressed and exhausted; a tough job, then, she understood. She'd worn that face, too.

The shorter of the two said something her sensitive ears missed and the bartender nodded, pointing in her direction. She grimaced. She shouldn't have flirted with him while trying to get answers the day before. The one that had spoken looked her way instantly while his friend, who was ridiculously tall, nudged him and thanked the bartender. The two made their way over and Alex readied herself for the confrontation.

Just because they were here didn't mean they were after her. For all she knew they'd been chasing the same job she'd been finishing up. She lifted her chin proudly when they stopped before her. "Hullo," she said, letting her British accent sharpen in warning. "Can I help you? You do realize it's not necessary to parade around as American feds when asking for information, yes?"

The taller one narrowed his dark eyes, brow furrowed. "We're FBI-"

Alex snorted. "And I'm prime minister of my country." They looked startled. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table after setting her drink aside. She narrowed her eyes, letting her sharp blue gaze rest coldly on the shorter of the two, who was giving her just as suspicious a look as she was giving them. "I recognize other hunters when I see them. Do I look like a bloody idiot?"

"You're a hunter?" he said warily. He examined her closely. He didn't look as if he believed her. Alex rolled her eyes. Didn't they have female hunters in America…?

"Yes," she said, slowly saying her next few words with a smirk. "Do you need proof? Sit down and get talking so we can get this conversation over with. If you were here about the ghost that was killing women who'd broken off engagements...Lauren Maxon, I believe? She's been salted and burned already. No need for you to stay here in town." She paused. She needed to be friendlier, if only to keep them off of her trail. "I'm Alex, by the way."

The tall one, who resembled a moose in a weird way, enveloped her slim hand in his when she extended it, shaking firmly. "I'm Sam Winchester. This is my brother, Dean. And no, we're not after her. We figured it had already been dealt with when we got here and heard about the cemetery being dug up."

Alex grinned, examining her nails. "That was me. I broke a nail doing it." Careful, she had to be careful! They'd figure it out if she wasn't. She'd been through enough moments in which that happened to know better. She lifted her gaze quietly. "So...if you're not here about the ghost, what are you hear about?"

The shorter one - Dean - finally spoke, voice gruff. And quite sexy, if she was being honest. Her attention caught, Alex watched him with interest as he said, "We're here about what we think might be something we've never seen before." She cocked her head a little, waiting. "There's a dog. We've noticed it appearing near these parts of the US every time something starts killing someone."

She lost her smile.

"Do you know something?" By the look in his eyes, he knew she did. The way his gaze searched hers, she knew he knew that she had something to do with it. Likely because of her eyes. Not just anyone had eyes as brightly blue as hers. Influenced by what she was, she supposed. They'd been darker when she was younger.

"No," she lied. She rested her chin in her open palm. "I haven't seen any dogs around my hunting grounds recently." She gave her most charming smile.

"You're _sure_ you don't know anything?" Dean persisted, glaring a little, and she leveled him with a glare of her own. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and gave an exasperated sigh, muttering an apology under his breath that Alex wasn't sure she was supposed to hear.

So much for Mr. Sexy. He was an _ass_. "Yes," she said coldly, reaching for her drink. Bloody bastard. "I'm positive. Now faff off, twat." He paused, bewildered by her insults, and she smirked as she sipped at the alcohol. "I don't know anything."

"Liar," he quipped.

Sam groaned as she smacked her hands on the table and just narrowly kept her voice from dropping into a growl. "I'm _not_. I didn't do anything, nor do I know about anything in terms of this...obsession with the dog you have." She bit back the urge to bare her teeth.

Sam shoved his brother hard enough that Dean nearly stumbled out of his chair. "Go and get us some drinks, Dean. I'll talk with her." Sam watched as Dean scowled, but left to do just that. When he was gone, he said, "Sorry about him. We've had a rough time lately."

Alex had the feeling that "rough time" didn't even begin to cover it, but instead said, "Why are you so interested in this dog obsession?"

Sam shrugged, giving her an odd look, and she grimaced; she was acting too suspicious. "Aren't _you_? I mean, this dog shows up _everywhere._ It's...it's like some kind of specter that creates death where it goes."

Alex kept her expression neutral, offended. She did _not_. "It's just a dog."

"A dog who shows up," Dean snapped smugly as he appeared, lacking beers. He held a phone in his hand, and his green eyes glittered with barely contained malice. "Everywhere a monster does. I'm tellin' you, Sammy, she's lying. Just talked to Bobby." Sam sputtered. "She's been everywhere the dog's been. So, sweetheart," he continued with a drawling tone, leaning in with a malicious look, "what aren't you telling us?"

Alex took a very long moment to think over her answer. She understood their feelings as Sam turned a wary look on her. She would have been suspicious, too. So she sucked in a deep breath and trailed her fingers over the blade hidden at the crease of her arm. Its presence was a comfort. "Why don't we take this outside," she said quietly, "so that you don't frighten the people in here?"

Dean's hand traced something at the small of his back. A hidden gun, Alex guessed, with the bullets that could likely kill her if need be. Sam stopped him with a quick jab, a tight forced smile on his face as he stood, turning to leave. "Dean," he said quietly, "do you want to get the police called on us? They know our faces here."

Dean's jaw worked furiously for a few moments before he jerked his chin towards Alex. "Let's go. I don't have time to waste right now."

Her slim brows rose. Oh? There was a story there. She knew it.

She trailed after them, aware that they were ready to spring into violent action if need be. She followed them through the doors and around a corner into the alley beside the tavern before her hand came to rest at the crease of her elbow. She wrapped her fingers around the blade hidden there, the pitch black metal glinting dully in the light of the day. Its hilt sparkled with glowing white symbols. She couldn't even read them, and she was multi-lingual.

"What the hell is that?" Dean said, bewildered when he turned to find it resting easily at her flesh. Sam's hand darted anxiously for something in his pocket, but Alex dropped her fingers away, holding her hands up in surrender.

"Kill me," she said quietly, unable to keep the growl from her throat, "and you'll be killing an innocent."

"What's going on here?" Sam asked patiently even as Dean glared viciously at her.

Alex cleared her throat, narrowing her blue eyes. It wasn't as if they didn't know she wasn't human. "I'm a skinwalker," she said finally. "S'why I've been everywhere that the dog has been. It's me - I'm the dog. I have stronger senses in this form than most humans, but that one's sense of smell and hearing is amazing. I use it to sniff out what I'm hunting. It gets me ahead of the game."

Dean gave her a long look before chortling almost sarcastically and earning himself a brittle glare. "Skinwalkers killing monsters and others of its kind? Yeah, right."

Alex gave him a sweet smile and promptly replied, "Why don't you sod off, you pretentious twat?" He paused, looking somewhat confused at the terms she'd used. She rolled her eyes. "You think I chose to be what I am? I've got my reasons for being both a skinwalker and a hunter, just like you do. Now you listen to me. I live this life because I chose to be different than the others that end up like me. I chose to use my curse to save lives, not destroy them."

Sam seemed to be okay with her explanation, but Dean continued to look suspicious. "What's with the blade?" Sam finally asked.

"This?" Alex patted her arm, letting it materialize before vanishing again. "I don't really know. I found it on the side of the road back in England. It was interesting, so I kept it, and it looks like it can kill just about anything and everything, so it's a bonus. Now. Are you done questioning me? I have some whiskey to get back to."

Dean didn't tear his gaze off of her for an instant. "Have you ever bitten anyone?"

"...no," she said slowly. "Not on purpose or anyone human. There was a girl who'd been possessed that I bit before the demon left her host. She was ten or so. I couldn't save her. I was new to hunting then."

It seemed he finally dubbed her safe, because he finally just huffed and folded his arms. He glared at his brother when Sam told her they were sorry for bothering her. "Since we're done here," Alex said finally, irritated. She wanted to finish her damn alcohol! "Can I go?"

"Hold on." Sam searched his pockets and then yanked a pad of paper out. He scribbled something onto a piece of paper and then ripped it out. "Here. Our numbers in case you ever need something."

"Sam," Dean barked irritably, furious with his brother for giving out his number in such a way.

Alex smirked at him and then tucked into her pocket. "Thanks. I'd return the favor, but I wouldn't." Dean looked beyond puzzled by what she'd said. "And don't worry," she called as she turned to leave, "I get it. If I kill anyone, I'm on the hit list." She said nothing more as she headed back to where her drink awaited.

She was going to buy herself an entire apple pie - simply for coming out of the confrontation _alive_.

* * *

"Bloody hell!" Alex snarled under her breath as she limped for the front door of a house she'd invaded. There was blood staining her shirt. She'd nearly been caught, but she'd managed to escape and for that reason and that reason alone, she was grateful.

And ready to leave.

It had been nearly three weeks since her run in with Sam and Dean Winchester, and she was grateful to find that she'd had enough luck to not run into them again. She'd swept the interaction under the rug, so to say. It was one of many.

Alex twirled her blade, ready to plunge it into the first thing she came across. She was _ready_. She'd accidentally woken up the entire flock of them when she'd dropped her blade after tripping over a mound of clothes and had gotten through beheading four of them before the fifth had disappeared, and she was wary about the fact that it still hadn't come after her.

Her blue eyes darted this way and that as she reached the front door, her fingers curling around the doorknob-

A noise caught her attention and she whirled, gloved fingers grabbing a silver blade at her hip. She hurled it just a brief moment before a gunshot rang out and Alex shrieked in pain when heat blasted through her shoulder. She collapsed to her knees, dropping her black weapon and pressing her hand to her shoulder. "Bloody _hell_ -"

"Whoops," a voice she knew distantly mused, and her gaze snapped up to find an almost amused Dean Winchester standing there, gun lowered, but still at the ready. "Look who it is. Don't you know better than to get in the way, puppy?"

 _And there goes my bloody luck._

She bared her teeth, knowing they were sharper than normal. "You bloody _twat_ , you shot me!"

"Really?" he drawled, "I didn't notice." He narrowed his eyes as she climbed to her feet, his green gaze never leaving her even as he kept his attention elsewhere, ready to fight if need be. "The hell are you doing here? This is our job."

"Same as you," she snarled, "I was hunting vampires. Bloody hell-" Her hand trembled. _Silver bullet_. She could feel it burning her muscles and bones. "Do you just shoot everything you see? Where's your brother?"

"He came around back. How many are in here?" A true hunter - she hoped, at least - who could disassociate himself from the fact that he clearly disliked her and focus on the more important situation at hand.

"Killed four," she reported, ignoring the feeling of blood leaking through her fingers. She grimaced, pressing her lips together in pain before suddenly jerking her blade up, ignoring the agonizing pain in her shoulder in favor of preparing for the incoming vampire that suddenly slammed into Dean from behind, teeth snapping at his neck. She didn't hesitate to throw her blade, watching as it struck with the aim of years of practice.

Dean yanked it free, using it to behead the creature before tossing it back as he shouted, "Sammy!" He didn't bother to be quiet; they'd all ready been found out, after all. There was no response. "Sam!" he tried again.

"That's not good," Alex mused, earning a dark look for her commentary.

Despite their irritation with one another, the two chose to ignore their animosity towards one another and proceeded further into the house. Alex waved at an open door that led to a wine cellar and began to descend into it, her eyes adjusting with ease to the darkness. Dean shoved past her when he saw his brother sprawled out amongst the debris of a shelf near the bottom of the stairs, slowly coming to after being knocked out.

"Sam," he said, smacking his cheeks gently to wake him up a bit more.

Sam blinked, looking dazed. He squinted at his brother. "Dean," he rasped, then frowned when he saw the shape of Alex nearby. He opened his mouth to shout a warning, and Alex cut in smoothly.

"Nice to see you, too, Mr. Moose," she drawled. She supposed it took him a moment to remember who she was, because he didn't respond until understanding dawned in his eyes after he'd been hauled to his feet.

"Alex," he remembered finally. "You're a skinwalker."

She snorted. "Someone hit his head a little too hard."

"Leave him alone, he's done more than you," Dean said, sounding rather childish in his weak attempt to insult her.

Alex grinned and wiggled her fingers mockingly. "I'll have you know that I've beheaded precisely - oof!" She cut off with a yelped cry when something flew down the stairs and barreled her right into the debris they'd just freed Sam from. She shouted, lashing out with her blade and using her other arm - even as its shoulder screamed in protest - to fend off the vampire with sharp pointy teeth.

She barely heard the others who were under attack, noting how Dean bellowed in rage when he was slammed into the ground. She lashed out with her blade again, the black metal glinting as it finally caught the vampire's throat. The vampire reared back with a scream - and then fell silent as Alex slashed, its head tumbling to the ground nearby.

Alex gave herself a moment, and then shoved the body off of her, heaving for air. Her body quivered with pained exhaustion as she rested there for the briefest of moments. After a few minutes, the air fell silent. She arched a brow when a staggering Sam appeared, peering down at her with surprising concern. "Are you alright?"

Her lips quirked. "Yeah. I'm fine. Thanks for asking. I mean, other than being shot by the twat moaning over a bruise." She jabbed a finger in the direction of where she could hear Dean groaning as he climbed to his feet. She accepted Sam's help when he offered a hand, letting him pull her upright. She brushed herself off. "You guys are just buckets of fun, aren't you?"

Sam grinned despite the blood on his face and said, "Guess so." He frowned when she touched her shoulder. "You were shot?"

"Your brother," Alex grumbled, eyes flickering with irritation now. "We frightened one another and he decided to shoot me because of it." She ignored the pain and the shock on Sam's face, plunging her finger into the bullet wound to fish for the bullet. Her body shuddered as she pulled it out and threw it down with a curse, flinching when she felt the pain of burned fingers.

"Really?" she muttered. "Silver?"

Sam shrugged. "We alternate. He had silver, I had iron."

"If you're done chatting like a couple of old people," Dean said crabbily, "I'm gonna go and get Baby. Don't let her out of your sight, Sammy." He glared at Alex irritably, narrowing his eyes into slits. "I don't trust her."

And then he strutted off, leaving Sam and Alex alone in the basement of a house that was now full of dead vampires. They exchanged awkward looks as Dean stormed up the basement stairs, and then slowly followed him up. "I guess you're coming with us?" Sam muttered, puzzled.

"I guess so?" Alex replied, uncertain. She faltered in the living room of the house, studying the heads just laying around as she lined her blade up with her forearm and tucked it away. Sam watched curiously but said nothing, instead leading the way out of the house itself.

Dean was all ready waiting in a car by the time they'd left, the sleek black '67 Impala catching Alex's eye. Her eyes rounded and she grinned, muttering under her breath, "Ooh, now that's a car I would steal and keep forever."

Sam wisely told her, "Do that, and Dean really will shoot you in the head."

* * *

"I don't understand why I'm still here," Alex said, grimacing as she touched her shoulder. It would heal within the next day or two, but for now...it hurt like hell. She glanced over at where Dean was working on patching up a nasty gash on his forearm. Nearby, Sam was merely plucking splinters out of his hands.

"Because you miraculously showed up where there was these things that go bump in the night after we caught you last week," Dean said with exaggerated patience, mocking her without so much as an insult. She snarled at him, baring her teeth. "I don't trust you. For all we know, you could be convincing them to go after innocent people."

"Yes," Alex said sarcastically, "because I have that much power over the supernatural creatures of the world. Do you believe this?" she demanded, looking at Sam.

He paused in plucking splinters to say, "I don't care either way, honestly. If you tag along, we have another set of hands, which could be useful."

"Tag _along_?" she sputtered. "I'm not working with you bloody twats!"

"Then I guess we'll just end you here and now and deal with the problem."

Alex whirled on Dean with a snap of her jaws. "I will tear your throat out," she snarled, "if you even try."

"I thought you didn't attack humans?" he retorted.

"Really, Dean?" Sam said, exasperated. He threw his hands up, and Alex snickered when he sputtered, his own blood dripping onto his face. "Ugh." He wiped it away and then told her honestly, "Ignore him, he's being a dick."

She paused in muttering insults under her breath to throw Sam an aggressive look. He didn't seem at all bothered by it; she didn't think Sam was too bad a person for the time being. He just...didn't understand why she was so frustrated. It was a nuisance to find yourself in a situation you couldn't figure a good way out of. In all reality, she could have walked out the door and neither man could have stopped her, but…

At the same time…

She was intrigued.

Intrigued by the hunters, who knew what she was, and had yet to behead her or put a bullet through her eye. She watched them out of the corner of her eye as she nursed her shoulder with a pout. She kept her fingers in close range of her blade at all times, but didn't think they'd suddenly whip a weapon out and kill her without warning.

Because despite all of Dean's cranky comments, she didn't think he thought she was a bad person.

Which was a miracle.

Because she was, by definition, a monster. In every way, shape, and form, Alex Montgomery was a monster.

So the idea that these people put up with her without intending to kill her...perhaps because they saw themselves as more monstrous than she was…

Alex was intrigued.

And suddenly, tagging along didn't seem like such a bad idea.

* * *

 _Rewrite of the first chapter! :)_


	2. Basement Witch

**|November 10th, 2008|**

Feet propped up on a bed, Alex lay in a comfortable position with her back flat on the ground. Her eyes shone with boredom, and she suddenly tilted her head back to look at Sam, who was leaned over a laptop at the small table in the motel room, typing away for information on whatever monster they were looking for. "I don't know why you two didn't let me go with Dean. My nose can pick up a lot more than his can."

"It's not because we didn't let you," Sam retorted. "It's because you wouldn't get up in the small time window we had to go to the crime scene." Alex stuck her tongue out at him in response, before rolling onto her stomach, removing her feet from the bed she used. Shoving herself to her feet, she walked over, straightening her tank top as she peered over his shoulder at the computer screen. "Nothing yet," he admitted at her questioning look. "I'm guessing demon though. We did smell sulphur in the area."

"Doesn't mean it's completely demon, though. I've known others of supernatural lifestyles to get possessed by demons," Alex replied darkly. She ran her fingers through her hair with a small yawn.

It had been two weeks since she'd joined up with the Winchesters. She'd gotten her shoulder and other wounds patched up alongside them, then had announced she was sticking with them. Sam hadn't seemed to mind too much. Dean, on the other hand, had downright refused to acknowledge her presence until a few days prior, when she'd figured out one of the many things they'd hunted recently. The ghost hadn't been too happy when they'd burned its bones, that was for sure. She had a scar from a nasty piece of glass she had fallen on. Though still irritated, Dean had accepted her as much as he was going to- by letting her in the front seat of the lovely Impala, something which they both adored, though Alex didn't dare ask to drive it. After an...interesting session with a thief Alex had learned to know as Bela, she couldn't blame the two for mistrusting the British.

"Gimme," Alex demanded, holding her hands out for the laptop. Sam was reluctant for a moment, then slid it over after she'd sat in the chair opposite of him. She popped her knuckles, then grinned at him and began to type furiously, glancing occasionally at the information Sam had compiled. Finally, she tilted her chair back, smug. "Looks like we're dealing with something like a succubus. We just need whatever Dean found out to confirm it. Jeez, you too faff around too much on details." She made a face.

"What if it's not a succubus though?" Sam protested. "Could be something else. And just what does "faff around" mean exactly?"

Alex contemplated that question for a few brief seconds before shrugging. "Messing around, as you Americans say. "If it isn't a succubus, then we go back to researching," she added, "Now look. You have free time to read a book like you always want to do." She smirked at Sam's sigh, then glanced up when the door suddenly opened. Dean strode in, removing the tie that had been around his neck as he did so.

"Son of a _bitch_ , that was messy," he muttered. Alex was looking expectantly at him as he added, "Chunks everywhere. Walls, windows, doors, floor, furniture, _everywhere_."

"So...not a succubus," Alex muttered disappointedly, her hopeful look vanishing. She'd been looking forward to being proven correct again. Kicking lightly at Sam under the table when he snickered, she glanced questioningly at Dean. "So what do you think it is then?"

Dean dug something out of his pocket and held it up. A hex bag. "Great," he muttered, tossing it at Sam. "Witches. Just what we wanted. Sam, burn that thing." Sam rolled his eyes, pulling out a lighter, and Dean turned on Alex. "They any different in England?"

"Nope," Alex said firmly. "Just as bad as they are here." She stroked a hand down the inside of her arm, the blade rippling momentarily into view. "Well?" she said, standing, "Let's get looking to see if we can find what we need to. The witch should have left at least some little bit of trail, yes?" She settled down to research the relations between the victims, humming under her breath. But Sam snatched the laptop away from her, and she pouted, kicking at him again.

"You two go speak to the families," Sam told Dean and Alex, "I'll use _my_ laptop."

Alex gave him the evil eye. "You're going to be sharing that thing someday, Sam. It's only a matter of time."

"So you think," Sam muttered back, earning a giggle from the skinwalker.

"Alright," Alex said, popping her knuckles as she turned hopefully to Dean. "Let's go talk to those families. I'll keep my nose on high alert for any scents that match up while we're at each place, so let's get moving." She playfully swatted at Dean, who shot her a look, then followed him out to the Impala with a wave over her shoulder at Sam. Out of the two, Sam was the one who was most friendly towards her. Dean seemed to tolerate her just barely, looking more like he wanted to smack the hell out of her most of the time.

Laughing to herself, Alex easily swung into the Impala. Dean had a gun tucked away at the small of his back. She didn't need to bother with worrying about trying to conceal a weapon. It concealed itself for her. She smiled to herself, buckling her seat belt as Dean slid into the driver's seat. "Was there anything weird about the witch's work?"

"No," Dean replied, shaking his head. He pursed his lips. "Nothing new or different. Just filthy witch work." Alex's lips quirked up at the disgust in his tone. He was a clean freak, eh? Amused, she grinned and Dean gave her a look and said, "No comment, Alex. They're gross. I don't do gross."

"Germaphobe," Alex coughed into her hand before smiling innocently, batting her eyelashes. He glared at her for a moment before cracking a grin, the first towards her that she could remember so far. It worried her slightly. Blue eyes narrowing, she warned, "You better not be remembering what I think you're remembering, Winchester. I'll kill you if you are."

He smirked. "Can't help it now. You brought it up."

She scowled, smacking the back of his head. "Don't piss the skinwalker off, you bloody fool."

It only took them a few minutes to reach the first victim's house. A woman had been found dead with evenly placed horizontal gashes down her back. "We didn't look for a hex bag," Alex said thoughtfully, "I'll hunt it down if you want to question the family and friends that are here." She tapped her nose. "Hex bags have a certain smell, like dead things and herbs. Should be easy enough."

"And if that...smell can't be pinpointed?" Dean demanded, glancing over at her as he parked the Impala in a drive way. They climbed out as Alex answered his question.

A smug smirk met his gaze, ice blue eyes gleaming proudly. "Nothing can escape my senses, Winchester. I know _exactly_ where a scent comes from. The problem will be me needing to use my other form." She pulled her lips back, revealing her other form's teeth for a moment. Then she let them return to her perfectly white teeth. "Make sure they don't come upstairs, please. If you have to, use your sexy looks to seduce one of them women into fainting. Or don't seduce them, either way they'll pass out after one look at your face." His jaw dropped and she grinned, patting his cheek before heading for the door, hyper-aware of his proximity when he moved to stand behind her.

Seconds after they'd rung the doorbell, a teary-eyed woman appeared, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. She Squinted at them for a second. "C-can I help you?"

Dean reached into his jacet and pulled out his fake FBI badge and held it up so that she could see. "We're from the FBI, came here to investigate Maria Johnson's death," Dean reported. Alex glanced down at herself, realizing she didn't look too fancy. She was in her usual outfit: a pair of jeans, a tank top, and her leather jacket. Shrugging, she pulled out her own badge, a recently forged one that Sam had prepared for her, and showed it to the woman.

She looked a little confused. "Th-the FBI has already-"

"Final checkup on the place," Dean lied smoothly. Alex forced herself to smile reassuringly at the wary woman, who obviously wasn't sure she trusted them.

"We just want to ask a few final questions and give the place one more look. Then you'll be left alone to mourn as you wish," Alex soothed, tilting her head and fluttering her eyelashes innocently.

"...come in," she said with a sorrowful sigh. "Just...could you please be quick about it?"

"My partner here will take a look upstairs while I ask the questions," Dean told her, nudging Alex into the house when she didn't move fast enough for his liking. She elbowed him harshly in the ribs in her irritation, making him grunt, and she smiled smugly. But the smile vanished when he silently tripped her, nearly making her fall flat on her face.

"Bloody bastard," she hissed, glaring at him.

"Alex," he replied under his breath, then pushed her lightly towards the stairs. "Make yourself useful and find the hex bag."

Alex rolled her eyes and disappeared up the stairs. Dean began to question the woman who had been their dead victim's mother. Alex waited a few seconds, then slipped into the room. After making sure nobody was home, she let her humanoid form drop and become her canine one. She stretched her muscles, hearing bones finish popping into place as she yawned, and then set to work on hunting down the hex bag.

Her tail wagged unintentionally behind her as she lowered her nose to the floor, wrinkling it at the familiar scent of blood. Ignoring it in favor of following the trail of death and herbs to a pillow, Alex paused, ears pricking when there were footsteps. But they simply stopped in the room beside the one she was in, and she quickly finished up, grabbing the hex bag out of the pillow lightly with her jaws and returning to a humanoid shape. She rushed to tug on her clothes, stuffing the hex bag in her pocket just in time for the woman to enter with Dean close behind, a look on his face that said she had better be ready to leave.

"I want you out," the woman demanded firmly, glaring angrily at Alex. "Now."

"We're leaving, we're leaving," Alex reassured, raising an eyebrow at Dean. "What'd you say?" she hissed under her breath as they left the house, ducking out the front door and both cringing when it was slammed behind them.

"Nothing," he muttered, "Just made a joke she didn't like."

"Jerk," Alex sighed, then dug in her pocket. She held the hex bag out in front of her. "At least I got what we needed. You guys nearly caught me in the wrong form though. You need to learn not to tell bad jokes, Winchester. They're really not funny."

Dean eyed the hex bag as they wandered over to the Impala. "I'm hilarious," he huffed, unlocking the car though not climbing in when Alex rested her elbows on the top of it. He copied her on the opposite side of it, watching as she let the dark blade shimmer into view. "What is that thing, anyways?" he demanded suddenly.

She shrugged. "Dunno. Like I've said before, stupid, I found it on the side of a road back home." Curious, she held the hex bag up with the very tips of her fingers and then prodded it with her blade. Instantly, it went up in flames and Alex cursed in surprise, dropping it to avoid being seared.

Dean gave a low whistle. "Remind me to not get pricked by that pork sticker."

Alex shook her head in exasperation at his not-funny comment, then put away her blade, swinging herself comfortably into the Impala. "Bloody idiot," she accused as he followed suit and started the car. He merely smugly smiled at her. They started off for the next victim's home, both falling silent to listen to the older music that Dean decided to crank up. Naturally, Alex sang along to herself, voice soft and making it sound almost like a lullaby despite the instrumental parts.

* * *

Three houses and an apartment later, they tiredly made their way back into the motel room. Sam was gone, and Alex exchanged a wistful look with Dean. "Dinner?" she said hopefully, waving around the lack of Sam in the room.

"Better be where he's gone," Dean mumbled with a yawn, falling face down onto a bed, still wearing a fairly rumpled suit. Amused, Alex drifted over to where the younger Winchester had left his laptop open. Within seconds, she'd hacked into it, easily bypassing his password and snickering as she did so. He really needed to change it and make it more difficult to figure out...

A good half-hour or so later, Sam walked in to see Dean napping face down on a bed and Alex furiously typing away on his laptop with a nearly evil smile on her face. Frowning, he slammed the food he'd brought down hard on the little table, shaking it and making Dean jump awake with a gun at the ready. Alex frowned at the small pistol that was trained on Sam. "Dean," she chided playfully, "it's not nice to shoot the skinwalker, let alone your own brother when he brought you food."

Giving her a dirty look, he shuffled over, waiting until Sam had handed over his burger before suddenly closing the laptop sharply. "Don't break that, Dean," Sam muttered darkly. Dean ignored him and tore into his burger. "Anything?"

"Every place we checked had hex bags," Alex reported. "You find out anything we can use while we were out doing the hard work?"

"Yep," Sam said, popping a fry into his mouth. "All connected to one person: Karyssa Dare. And get this. Lady lives like the witches do in the stories; she stays in a rickety old place up in the nearby woods."

"Not creepy at all," Dean commented around his food. With the last bite, he swept any remaining crumbs from his hands. Alex stole a fry from Sam, earning a playful glare, and then nodded her agreement. She didn't like such old places. It wasn't often that old abandoned buildings held good things. Not once in her years as a hunter had she walked out of an old building without killing something.

"So we going to check this out?" Sam asked when Dean went back to the bed and fell back onto it.

"After sleep," Dean said, voice muffled by blankets.

Alex rolled her eyes.

* * *

 **|A Few Hours Later...|**

Muttering under his breath, Dean slunk around the back of the old cabin, making sure his head didn't pop over the windows just in case he was seen. He kept a sharp ear out for any sign of fighting, having already decided that he'd go running to help if Sam ended up in a fight. Alex...he may have been more than just a little bit tempted to leave to the witch in the cabin.

It wasn't necessarily that he hated her. He disliked her at the moment (she'd come close to scratching his car), but disliking someone wasn't hatred. And he couldn't find it in himself to attempt to get close to anyone anymore. Not when he was destined for Hell within a few months, forced to leave his family behind. Maybe Sam would finally have the normal life he wanted after Dean was gone. Not with Alex, naturally, the skinwalker and his brother? He wanted to gag at the thought of it. The two were acting too much like siblings at the moment to get even close to that.

Dean's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening and closing, and within seconds he found himself face to face with a fairly pissed off looking elderly woman. her hair had been tied away from her sharp features, her eyes gleaming angrily. but other than that, she looked harmless...until you put her in front of a altar with the disgusting supplies witches used to cast their spells. He instantly raised his gun, but with a sharp jab to his wrist, the gun was clattering to the ground.

"Son of a _bitch_ ," Dean snarled as he shook his hand out. The appendage had gone numb thanks to the witch's carefully aimed elbow.

The witch rolled her eyes, then pointed towards the cabin. "In you go, young man, your siblings are already inside waiting on you. They'll be glad to let you know that I am _not_ the witch you young ones are lookin' for. I'll gladly let ya have that one though."

Dean's jaw dropped for a split second before clicking shut. "The hell you talking about, lady?" She glared furiously and he threw his hands in the air before snatching up his gun. "Okay, okay! I'm going inside already, see?"

The witch followed him into the building, and then to a surprisingly lavished dining room, where an equally surprised looking Alex and Sam waited. Alex had her fingers dancing nervously along the inside of her arm, where her blade was undoubtedly hidden. Sam, however, found himself weaponless, and was staring intently at Dean. Dean shook his head; he was no longer armed, too. Alex rolled her eyes at the boys' uselessness.

"I suppose," the elderly witch muttered, hobbling her way across the room and glaring at Dean until he finally sat down beside Sam. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose with a look of exasperation and Dean sighed in response. Only they would be unarmed in the house of a witch. "That you are looking for the murderer of those poor girls?"

"Who wouldn't be you?" Alex said sharply immediately. Icy blue eyes became even colder. "Give us one reason we shouldn't kill you. You're a connection between all of them, along with the hex bags."

Dean had to give the girl credit. She was quick witted.

"I didn't make those hex bags," the witch replied. "We may as well start at the beginning. I'm Amelia. I am one of two witches in this town. It isn't me, but the other you're looking for. We were good friends once, when I was younger and preferred the darkness over the light. She was okay until the other day, when she cursed her daughter to death."

"Maria," Sam murmured, "She was the first one to be cursed."

Amelia nodded. "Yes, Maria was her daughter. A good girl, young. Only forty three. But, nonetheless, her mother killed her."

Alex's mind went back to the tearful mother, and Dean's must have, too, because he said gruffly, "Charming lady. Can't _wait_ to meet her again."

Amelia's lips quirked up at his tone of voice. "Ah, but you won't be seeing her again. No doubt after discovering the hunters lurking around her house, especially the skinwalking one, she will have fled to a safer location."

The glare she received from Amelia made Alex growl, a sound she could accomplish even in this form. "It's not my fault we suck at pinpointing the exact location of hex bags, okay? I had to find it. I don't get how she saw what I was though..."

"No doubt she had sensors up that would alert her if someone used some kind of ability other than her own," Amelia mumbled.

"Great," Alex said with a pout. "And there's nothing you can do to help us? Like, use your witchy abilities to get us where we need to be or find her again?"

Amelia's eyes flashed angrily. "Don't go around demanding things of me, Alexandriana Montgomery. I do not approve of such things. You wouldn't want your little...secret getting out, now would you?" Alex's mouth snapped shut and her face paled. Dean's gaze shot to her with wariness while Sam merely arched an eyebrow curiously at her.

Uncomfortable, Alex seemed to hunker down into her seat, avoiding looking at the elderly woman. As she fell silent, Sam turned all of their attention back onto the matter at hand. "So how are we supposed to find this witch if she's already left?"

"You use that girl's nose." Amelia's words were blunt, sharp as she pointed at Alex, who silently looked down at the table, as if refusing to acknowledge the witch's words. "Her dog nose will be able to track her, trust me on that." The elderly woman smiled faintly. "I wish you luck on your hunt. I do hope the violence comes to an end soon. I used to enjoy it, I won't lie to you hunters, but now...all an old woman wants is peace."

Sam thanked her and the trio took their leave, Dean studying Alex with narrowed eyes. "Something you gotta tell us, _Alexandriana_?"

In an instant, there was a blade pointed at him, a deadly look on her face. "Call me that again," she said warningly, gaze serious. "And your throat will meet the outside world, Winchester. _Nobody_ calls me that. That name belongs to some innocent child who had a family. Say it again, Winchester, I dare you." That said, she whipped around in a fury and stormed over to where they'd hidden the Impala.

Sam watched after her, then leaned slightly closer to murmur in Dean's ear, aware of Alex's good hearing. "Secret, huh?"

Dean crossed his arms. "Need to find out about what she might be hiding. For all we know, she might be some all powerful demon possessing a skinwalker's body."

"That blade isn't of demonic origins though," Sam muttered. "I looked into it. It only comes from legends that even Bobby has troubles looking into. It's never been seen in any mortal realm. Ever. I'll see what I can find about her now that we have a last name, though."

"Good. Let's go. Don't want my throat cut out..."

Alex suddenly whipped around to face the two hunters, her eyes full of irritation that Dean wasn't sure he wanted to be pointed at him. She'd been pissy since Amelia's words, and even he was wary of her. "My nose is good, but even better in my little doggy form. You guys are gonna have to go as a cop and and one with a K-9 partner."

Sam narrowed his eyes in thought. "We can't just walk in with a dog, Alex. There's certain things we need-"

"A collar, a leash, and a vest announcing my reason for being there, all in my bag," Alex said sharply. "I've worked this way with someone before. Move, let me go get the stuff." She ducked past them, biting her lip and letting worry crease her brow. She was screwed. Seriously screwed. If they found out what she was hiding from them... What she had lied about... _Matt_...

Shaking her head to clear it, relieved that she had a hunter that she could work with that wouldn't turn on her the second she wasn't needed anymore, she retrieved the three needed objects, then began stripping, making sure her slim form was hid behind the Impala. She didn't need Dean getting a third chance to see her naked. She carefully folded her clothes, then shifted down. Soon, she was a wolfdog, easily trotting over to Sam and Dean with a leash, collar, and police dog vest grasped in her jaws.

She was _very_ aware of the surprised look that crossed Sam's face at her size. He had yet to see this version of her. Dean, however, merely snickered as she dropped the objects in her jaws, shaking her fur out. She growled softly, glaring at him, then picked her possessions back up and carried them over to Sam. She trusted San more than Dean to put such things on her. With her luck, Dean would strangle her purposely with the collar.

She nudged the items with her nose and Sam stared at her for a few seconds, stunned. She gave a wolfish grin. Her back nearly reached him mid-thigh. Nonetheless, the moose of a man knelt down and set to work on collaring her. As he clipped it on, Alex grumbled, unhappy. She hated having to wear one, but for this, it was needed. She did appreciate, however, when Sam adjusted the collar so that it hung loosely around her neck. The leash was clipped on next, and then the vest was strapped on. Soon, Alex looked as much like a police dog as she could.

Shaking herself again, she sat down, giving them pointed looks. In order to do what needed to be done, they needed to look the part as well. About ten minutes later, she doubted anyone would have recognized them as three who might be a bit of trouble. All three walked down the sidewalk, heading for the building they'd tracked the witch to. Dean had his hands in his pockets and Sam carried the other end of the leash that was attached to Alex, though it was more because of the fact that she trusted Sam not to tie her up somewhere like a common non-working animal.

When they ducked into the building, they weren't questioned, and Sam felt a slight moment of relief. They had nothing to prove that they were cops that were allowed to have a dog with them, even one wearing a K-9 Unit's vest. Just for keeping up appearances, he gave Alex an apologetic look and muttered, "Heel," when Dean went to speak with one of the workers.

Alex did as she knew to do: she sat beside him, sniffing furiously for any trace of the witch. When the scent crossed her nose, she gave a growling rumble, looking pointedly at Sam. Sam held up a hand to tell her to hold on a moment, then said as soon as Dean had returned with no information, "Alex has something."

"Do you?" Dean muttered, looking to Alex for confirmation. The skinwalker desperately tugged lightly at the leash, urging silently for Sam to follow. With their luck, the witch had somehow sensed them again and run off. They didn't have any time to waste.

Luckily, Sam got the message and let her lead him. Dean kept close, his hand flexed and ready to dart to the pistol he kept hidden at the small of his back. Once again, Alex thanked whatever god was out there that her blade was able to stay on her at all times in case it was needed.

She stopped at an elevator, growling in frustration. She hated elevators. They set off her scent trails...carefully, she reared up, ignoring the look on Sam's face when he realized she could have easily put her paws on his shoulders like this, sniffing at the buttons. She tapped the one heading down with her nose, then dropped back to all four paws, settling down to wait.

"Basement, just the place for a witch," Dean said, pulling out his gun as soon as the elevator doors shut.

Sam dug around in his jacket, then tossed a pair of jeans and a T-Shirt down to Alex, who stared up at him in surprise. He rolled his eyes. "Dean figured you'd want to be able to help out more than you usually can in that other form."

Alex gave a wolfish grin, then gave Dean a suspicious look when he smirked. She knew that look. He just wanted to see her naked again. She tugged at the vest with her teeth until Sam knelt down to help her get it off, then took on a human form before Sam had time to even stand straight. She grinned when Sam gave her some modesty, rapidly standing and wheeling around. "Ooh, I like that. Means I just have to train a certain someone that his eyes will be ripped from his head if he _doesn't stop looking!_ " Alex punctuated that sentence by throwing her collar at Dean after removing it, glaring. He snickered, but turned away, letting her get dressed. Alex made a face. The lack of underwear sucked, but she appreciated that Sam had been willing to think to grab at least some clothing for her.

"What do you want to do with this?" Dean questioned as Alex ran her fingers through her messy hair. He waved the collar and leash around, nodding at the vest as he did so.

"Just toss it by the elevator," Alex instructed as they ducked out of it. "I'll pick it up on our way out."

It was dark in the basement, nearly pitch black. And the darkness made her nervous. Luckily, Dean had thought ahead, and removed a flashlight, turning it on and holding it up along with his gun. "Alright," he muttered, "We're looking for a creepy old lady who shouldn't be too hard to bring down."

And then Dean suddenly went flying, thrown backward by some invisible force. Alex jerked away in surprise, her blade materializing along her arm in an instant. She ripped it free of its invisible bindings, and Sam ripped his gun out, but was the one who went sprawling next. His gun clattered along the floor and Alex dove out of the way when a desk went sliding at full force towards her, making sure to grab the gun as she did so. She sprang to her feet quickly, gaze darting this way and that as Sam shoved himself to his feet. She clicked the safety on, then tossed him his gun. "Okay, so Miss Witchy doesn't like the stereotype," Dean wheezed as he made his way back over.

Alex gave a faint smirk, then began advancing forward, cautious. When a woman materialized with a murderous look on her face, Alex was ready, and lashed out, not with her blade, but with her hand, slamming a fist into the witch's jaw. She screamed in anger and pain, ripping away before suddenly wildly lashing out in return, a knife glinting in her hand. Alex ignored the pain of a knife slicing a small amount into her arm, glaring at Dean. Dean snorted, slowly beginning to move around them, Sam joining Alex to keep the witch occupied while he did so.

"How dare you," she hissed, glaring dead eyes at them. Insanity made the witch's eyes wild. "How dare creatures of your kind come in and kill my son!"

"You're crazy," Sam retorted, "We didn't touch your son!"

The witch glared at him. "Not you," she spat, "The skinwalker. The bitch killed my son."

"I didn't do anything to your son, I try my best to stop that kind of stuff," Alex retorted, gritting her teeth when the witch cast the knife aside and instead pulled a small pistol from the small of her back, her eyes wide as she smiled and cocked it before aiming it at Alex's head. Alex froze, not moving. One of the many rules to hunting: don't piss off the one with the gun. Except this time, it wasn't the hunter with the weapon.

Dean had begun to advance forward, wary, and Sam's gaze flicked from Alex to the witch to Dean. The witch frowned, then whipped around just as Dean lunged forward, gun trained on the witch and ready to fire. The familiar sounds of gunshots rang out, and the witch cried out before crumpling to the floor, dead within seconds. Alex gave a small squeal unintentionally, dropping her head into her hands, blood dripping from her fingers quickly. "DAMN IT ALL TO BLOODY HELL! CAN'T YOU SHOOT A GUN WITHOUT GETTING ME IN THE CROSSFIRE, WINCHESTER?"

Dean blinked, then glared, uncertain of what else to do. "Then stop getting in the way!"

"Dean," Sam said sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose before moving over to Alex. "Do we need to take you to a hospital or can we get out of here before people come looking?"

Alex carefully raised her head, wincing. "Let's get the bloody hell out of here. I have some a sexy face to bash in." She shot a dark look at Dean, who ignored her in favor of retreating to fetch their possessions. Grumbling as Sam inspected the injury, she muttered, "Why's he so pissy with my anyways?"

"It's not just you," Sam muttered, gently studying the graze a bullet had left above her left eye. "It's a long story that I don't want to talk about right now. Some other time I'll explain. But to cut it short, Dean made a deal with a crossroads demon and he has a few months left to live. Don't mention it to him or he'll go and get himself wasted."

"Already seen that," Alex muttered, referring to a time not too long ago when Dean had come bursting into the motel room they'd been sleeping in, waking both only to exclaim that he was actually happy before passing out on the couch.

As Dean came meandering back over, Sam pulled back. "Probably needs a few stitches. I'll do it when we get back to out room, and then we'll take off out of here. I don't think anyone will come looking for her, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Safe isn't fun though," Dean commented.

Alex glared at him, ignoring the blood that leaked into her eye. "Jerk."

To her surprise, he smirked. "Bitch."

A hard, bruising kick to the shin later, Alex was stalking towards the elevator, Sam following her with a smug look on his face as Dean limped, cursing the skinwalker for her unnatural strength when it came to kicking him.

* * *

 _Another quick chapter...:D  
_


	3. Revenge

**|November 17th, 2007|**

She was, to put it fairly lightly, furious. Less than two days after dealing with a man that had been hunting Sam for reasons she didn't know (there was something else to add to her list!), she was sitting alone in a motel room, seething. She'd been expecting a phone call, but she hadn't expected the Winchesters to leap on that information and declare that she was to stay behind. And to top it all off? The Winchesters should have been back hours ago along with there being a specific lack of phone call.

"I'm done," Alex muttered, standing swiftly. She glowered at her phone for a moment, then stormed over to her duffle bag, searching through the jumble of things inside before pulling out a piece of clothing, holding it up for examination. A slim, strapless cocktail dress of the color black, matched with a pair of some high black sandal heels and multiple pieces of turquoise jewelry made for a wonderful outfit that attracted nicer...fun in the form of richer men. Not that she was a prostitute or anything like that, but accepting money after a fun night wasn't something she wanted to turn down in this life.

Quickly, Alex shed her casual outfit and slid on the dress. Adjusting it, she walked barefoot into the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. It was only around ten minutes later that she came out, her eyes even more piercing than before. The icy blue color popped even more when she put on the jewelry as well. "There," she said smugly. If Dean and Sam were going to leave her behind, she was going to enjoy herself.

She slid into the heels, then strutted outside, studying the available cars. Naturally, they'd taken the Impala, so she was stuck walking or stealing a car. She settled on a decent looking but not too fancy car and set to work on the stealing bit. Soon, she was climbing into the front seat, beaming as the engine purred to life. Strapping herself in, she pulled out of the parking lot and started towards the nearby city, where she had no doubt a club would be.

Finding one late at night was one of the easiest things on Earth, she realized quickly. Within moments of driving around, she discovered one that was filled with pounding music and a few decent looking men and women hanging around out front. She slid from the vehicle after parking, aware of the eyes that instantly studied her. She knew she looked good, not even hesitant to think such self-centered thoughts. And they knew it, too.

She slid past the bouncer with a quick showing of a fake FBI badge, then popped her neck as she looked around. Most of the night's people contained teenagers that had somehow gotten in, but Alex couldn't blame them. She would have done the same if she hadn't been out hunting things that go bump in the night for years and years on end. A path seemed to open up for her as she strode through the dancers, most of which were disgustingly grinding upon one another, as she made her way to the bar. She ordered a drink, then settled down to wait for someone to join her.

It didn't take long, she noted with smug amusement. Seconds after she'd ordered her beer, a man with a not so bad face slid into the seat beside her, shooting her a flashing white grin. Alex returned it with a sly smirk, fluttering her eyelashes in the way she only did when she wanted something. "Hi, there."

"Hey," he replied eagerly. A bit too eagerly for her liking. He couldn't be older than her, most likely a freshman in college. From not too far off, a group of guys were watching them. She fought the urge to curl a lip. Probably hoping to get in on the action, too, she thought. The guy offered her a hand to shake, and Alex eagerly shook it. "Zane."

"Alex," she purred, pausing to sip at her beer, relishing in the taste. "Nice to meet you, Zane." She stroked along the inside of her arm, letting her blade comfort her for a moment...then froze. It was gone. Her precious blade, the one that killed just about everything, had vanished. "Dammit," she spat, shooting to her feet. "Excuse me, Zane, turns out I need to leave."

He grabbed her arm, pulling her back into her seat with a smug grin. "Oh, I don't think you want to do that. I recognize others of my kind when I see them. It certainly helps that my nose is a bit sharper than usual, too. Looking for this?" The blade danced along his fingers and Alex didn't hesitate to reach out and snatch it up, a scowl on her face. How had she not noticed that he reeked of the same scent she did?

"Don't tempt me," she gritted out, disappointed that her night had taken a turn for the worse. "Damn it, I wanted a break from this nonsense and the first man I end up meeting is a bloody skinwalker, too. Just great." She ripped her phone out, meaning to dial a furious text to one of the Winchesters in case backup was needed immediately, but was stopped when Zane snatched it away and easily dropped it on the ground, hopping from his chair and onto it, smashing it into pieces. Alex's jaw dropped.

"I don't think so," he chimed, then crooked a finger, beckoning for her to follow. "My buddies and I would like to know why a fellow skinwalker is joining hunters that are after us."

"We're not on a hunt...right...ooh, those bloody bastards are dead!" Alex hissed. _This_ was why they'd vanished off the face of the Earth! Not because of some "boy night" but because they were hunting her own species. Lovely. Just what she needed. Even more than pissed off, she growled, "Lead the way, love, and I'll try not to rip your throat out."

At least she had her weapon back...nope! She growled again when he somehow had it once more and tucked it into his jacket. Great. He had to be some kind of magician or something on top of skinwalker...following him with an icy look that scared a few people as she passed them, Alex silently prayed for some strike of good luck. She was a proud hunter, one that never fooled around.

To be held hostage in a way by her own kind was a harsh embarrassment on her part. Especially when she realized she was hoping that the Winchesters were somewhere nearby to lend her hand. She sighed. Gone were the days of completely relying on herself. A sigh escaped her as she crossed her arms, well aware that she could change forms and make a run for it. The wolfdog forms were rare among skinwalkers and much faster than the simple dogs. But then she'd lose her good outfit...and they had her weapon.

One look at the buddies and she knew it would be better to come back later. Even she, Alex, knew when to retreat. Pouting over the loss of her clothes and heels, she let her form change at the same time that she surged forward, not oblivious to the fact that she was still in the club. A snarl left her lips when Zane wheeled around with surprise. People screamed and fled from her and she lunged forward, bolting from the club quickly.

The bouncer cried out in surprise as the people outside scattered. She loped past them, shuddering when a furious howl rang out. _Damn it!_ she thought, skirting around the corner of a building, bolting at full speed in the direction of the motel. Dean and Sam wouldn't be back yet if they were on a hunt, she knew that, but she knew for a fact that there were a few weapons stashed in select places for occasions that someone broke in and attacked.

Just why, she wondered as she ran, her tongue hanging out as she panted for air, fur puffed up in agitation, did the skinwalkers want her? Yes, she was working with Sam and Dean, but apparently she wasn't in on this hunt. So what was the point?

She swiveled her ears backwards, listening intently as she slowed to a tensed stop. She could hear the growls of one hot on her heels. She took off again, cursing her luck. Only she would go out for a night of fun and come across others of her kind that wanted to commit murder.

This was going to be a long night. _Especially_ since she was unable to touch silver and couldn't get her weapon back. She'd have to resort to her second choice.

Tearing their throats out with her teeth made for an effective choice.

* * *

Dean threw the shotgun full of silver bullets over his shoulder and into the backseat of the Impala, a furious scowl on his face as Sam hauled himself into the passenger seat. "Chill, Dean," Sam huffed, "It's not the end of the world if we can't find them the first night we're out here. The second they strike again, we go on the move, remember?"

"I don't want our little tag-a-long knowing about this," he gritted out, starting the car and settling down to drive. "I don't want her interfering on another one of our hunts."

"She could find them faster with her nose," Sam commented, earning a venomous glare from his brother. He shook his head. "What do you not like about her? She's not too bad."

"She's British."

"So?" Sam stared at his brother with obvious disbelief. "What does that have to do with anything? Yeah, Bela was British, but not everyone's a thief who decided to make deals that ended with a trip to-" He cut off, catching himself, especially when Dean's gaze darkened unhappily. "Sorry," Sam muttered, shaking his head.

Ignoring that, Dean gritted out, "I just don't trust her. She's a skinwalker, Sammy. They all turn out bad in the end. It's impossible not to, especially after what Gordon tried. He's just like her. A hunter-creature mix isn't a good one. We're going to end up putting a silver bullet in her head, Sam."

Sam shook his head. "Gordon was also insane," he pointed out, ignoring the memories of the mess Gordon had created. "Alex isn't crazy and doesn't want to kill us for some rumors."

"I don't care," Dean said gruffly. "I don't like her-"

He cut off sharply, slamming on the brakes. The Impala screeched to a halt, both men thrown forward against their seat belts as it did so. Sam grunted at the sudden whiplash. "Ow," he muttered, then blinked when he realized _why_ Dean had stopped.

A writhing flurry of black, white, and reddish fur fought viciously in the middle of the street. Screams and howls and high-pitched yelps came from the fighting canines and it took Sam a few moments to realize just how familiar the one was. Dean realized it as well and cursed, reaching behind him and snatching up his shotgun as the black Great Dane snarled and locked its jaws around Alex's throat. He was out of the car quickly, Sam following suit. A gunshot rang out as Dean fired the silver rounds off, easily catching the enemy skinwalker in the head. The canine crumpled silently and Alex squirmed out from underneath him, panting for air and bleeding heavily from multiple wounds that covered her stained her fur.

Dean lowered the shotgun, glaring at her. "The hell are you doing out here?"

She gave him a growl in response, staggering to stand a bit closer to Sam, eyeing the shotgun warily before giving him a pointed look. Sam gave a tight smile, moving to the trunk of the car and returning shortly with a set of clothes for her. She took them lightly in her jaws, then limped around towards the back of the car.

Dean was half-tempted to turn around, just to piss her off, but the sound of her voice stopped him. "We need to move," she gritted out, grimacing in pain. Seconds later, she was limping back into view, her eyes full of exhaustion and pain. Blood was already soaking the shirt Sam had given her, surprisingly one of Dean's, Dean noted with annoyance. The jeans, however, we're her own.

"And why is that?" Dean demanded. "The hell are you doing out anyways?"

"How about I get to know why I was left on a hunt that involves my own people?" Alex shot back, furious. "Because you pair of jerks left me back at the motel, I got bored and went out to a club. And you want to know something? I don't have my weapon anymore! Thanks, thanks a whole lot for making my life a whole lot harder right now!" She winced, mentally doing a sweep of where she was injured. A nasty gash from her shoulder, across her back, and down to her hip that would need to be patched up. A broken finger that would heal quickly, alongside a few scratches and scrapes. The worst outside of her back, however, was the deep bite on her neck, that had just barely nicked her jugular. She shuddered. Seconds later, and Dean would have been too late.

Grudgingly, she shot him a look. "Thank you for shooting him, by the way. Nearly got me."

Dean snorted, then frowned when his phone suddenly went off. He checked the caller I.D., then slowly answered it, cautious. "Hello?" A moment's silence. "What the- slow down, man, we didn't do anything! No, we're working with her. Yeah, yeah." Dean rolled his eyes, shooting Alex a look that made her smile sheepishly. She knew _exactly_ who had called Dean, Sam realized. And she knew Dean was about to be pissed. "Just who the hell are you, anyways? Who says you get to order anyone around?"

When Dean hung up, Alex began to slink closer to Sam, her smile vanishing at the deadly calm look on Dean's face. "So, Alex," he said tightly. "Care to explain why you lied to us again?"

"Huh?" Sam glanced at her. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Meant to tell you tonight, when I was expecting the call," Alex drawled out in response, her accent sharpening. "But _someone_ just had to go dancing off..." Slowly, she turned to Sam and said, picking her words carefully, "I, err, kinda missed a few details. My family _was_ killed by that skinwalker, like I said, but, err, not all of 'em. I have an older brother, still human, who decided to look the other way."

She was met by a moment of silence before Dean exploded, just like she'd thought he would. "You didn't think it was smart to mention _you had a brother who could have come after us if he wanted_?"

She shrugged. "Like I said, he doesn't care much for the supernatural world. If I run out of cash though," she smirked, drawling in her exaggerated accent, "then he finds me a job to get me some." She rolled her eyes at the anger Dean wore on his face. "Listen, Winchester, Gordon obviously wanted something from Sammy here," she jerked a thumb at the wary man, "and I know you two are keeping secrets from me. So if you spill, I'll spill. Deal? No? Then sorry to disappoint you." She winced, pressing a hand lightly to her bloody throat. "What did Matt want?"

"Something 'bout _the_ skinwalker being on the move," Dean muttered, then frowned when Alex choked in surprise before heaving bloody coughs, cursing loudly. With so many unfamiliar words jumbling the mix, Sam gave Dean a clueless look. What the hell was she saying?! "And how did he get my number?"

"Voicemail," Alex chimed back, "I lost my phone at a club." She was slicked in blood, but this time, her eyes had taken on an icy look, her gaze emotionless. "The bastard's moving then. Lovely. And I don't have my weapon...he say where it was heading?"

"Here. Something about wanting something."

"We need to move," Alex breathed, "I need my weapon back. NOW. That bastard's different then the rest of the skinwalkers, Dean." He blinked, surprised that she'd referred to him by his actual name. She turned to Sam, pleading, "Sam, you'll help me get it back at least, right? I need it."

"Uh, sure," Sam agreed warily.

"What's so important about this skinwalker? If we're going after it, I might as well know," Dean said crossly.

Alex, who'd been in the process of hauling herself into the Impala, hesitated. "It's the one that killed the rest of my family because of my blade." That said, she slammed the door shut and waited impatiently for them to get in and get moving.

They didn't have much time.

* * *

 **|A Few Hours Later...|**

Alex carefully hauled herself into the car, sweat pouring down her forehead from the effort it took after the amount of medication she'd taken and the stitches Sam had put in her back in an attempt to help her heal even faster than she already did. She'd dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a loose T-Shirt, but this time, she'd slipped black leather gloves over her hands. She was careful not to let any bare skin to touch the silver bullets as she quickly put them into the pistol she'd borrowed from the other two hunters. Sam climbed into the passenger seat, glancing back to check on her. "You alright?"

"Yep," Alex drawled, finishing what she was doing and twirling the gun easily as she beamed at him. "Where's the other Winchester? I can't lose this bastard's trail, I've been searching for him for months."

"Dean's coming, give him a second," Sam answered, checking his own weapons.

Teasingly, Alex muttered, "I'm not the only one who could hide a weapon in their hair." That earned her a playful glare in response. Dean made an appearance then, reaching over his shoulder to put a shot gun in the backseat beside Alex after climbing into the driver's seat. "Ready to go?"

"Yep," Sam replied, "We're ready. Anything important we should know about the skinwalker, Alex?"

"He's a lot like the rest of them," Alex murmured, "But when silver burns me like this..." She took a silver dagger from it's sheathe at her hip, resting it on her arm and hissing as the smell of burning flesh filled the car, making Dean glare at her for daring to put such a smell in his beloved Impala. "It doesn't do anything like that to him. It'll kill him if you can get it through his head or heart, but it won't be like a normal skinwalker. I don't know why."

"Great," Dean gritted out. "Just what we needed. We'll need to be careful."

"No, we'll need to run in there and mess it all up like you usually do," she said sarcastically in response before sulkily glaring out the window as Dean pulled out of the motel parking lot. Alex ran her hand through her hair, wincing when she accidentally tugged on her stitches. This needed to be done right. This might be the only way she could get her needed revenge.

It took her mere moments to nod off, tired from the events of her evening alongside the medicine. And with the sleep came dreams.

 _She cowered beneath the table, sobbing in quiet hysteria as her mother's screams cut off. Scared, the small girl clutched a black blade in her hand, her wide blue eyes filling with horror as claws clicked daintily on wooden floor. Massive black paws appeared, and Alexandriana tightened her grip fearfully on her weapon. She didn't know how or why her mother had pulled it out of her arm, but she knew it was important. Her brother hid not too far away beneath a counter, silent._

 _And then, a massive creature dropped to the floor, blood dripping from its bared teeth and lips. It lunged forward, catching her leg in its jaws, biting down until a crack was heard, and Alexandriana screamed as she was dragged out of hiding, the blade flailing desperately in her hand. She managed to catch the canine across the eye with her blade, and it howled, jerking back. In a panic, Alexandriana turned and bolted, desperate to get out of the house and to what might be safety._

 _It was not to be, however. Within moments of her escape, it was on her again, ripping violently at her legs and belly. Alexandriana screamed and sobbed, lashing desperately with her weapon._

 _The pain wouldn't stop. The pain only grew worse and worse, as if something was burning her from the inside out, and she screamed louder in agony, but it only continued until finally, the canine opened its jaws, towering above her, and lunged to grasp her throat in its powerful black jaws..._

Alex snapped awake when a hand gripped her knee, gently shaking it. "Alex. Alex, wake up. Can you hear me?"

Alex snatched Sam's wrist in a surprisingly bruising grip, her icy blue eyes flashing with fear for a brief moment before relaxing into a look of annoyance. "Not a good idea to wake the skinwalker up suddenly, Sam. I'm fine." She gently smacked his hand away, wincing as she carefully shifted forward to peer out the windshield, purposefully resting her chin on the seat beside Dean's head, just to bother him. He gave her a dirty look. She studied the simple looking house with a curious look, her eyes roving over it. "Where are we and why are we at a house?"

Dean opened his mouth to fire back a furious retort, undoubtedly something not too nice, but Sam interrupted, sparing her the effort of having to pry information out of his brother. "We had a friend of ours, Bobby Singer, track down a few possible places where the pack of skinwalkers might be hiding, and then we narrowed it down ourselves."

Alex nodded, liking the method in which they'd done it. She glanced pleadingly at Dean, batting her eyelashes innocently. "Can you help me out of the car, Winchester?"

"Get yourself out," he muttered, glaring at her as he climbed out. Alex glowered irritably, then blinked when the door opened and he actually offered her his hand. Ignoring the look she gave him as she took it, he hauled her out, both being careful not to pull any of her stitches. Giving him a grateful look, she popped her neck and twirled the pistol in her hand. "Alright," she said firmly, knocking the door shut with her hip. "Let's go get my weapon back so we have a chance at killing an evil son of a bitch."

"And if the thing's already in there?" Sam questioned, clicking the safety of his own pistol off.

"Shoot all the others, but I want him. I don't care what you guys think about doing jobs right, I want to kill that bloody bastard." Alex gave Dean a pointed look. "Shoot my guy, Winchester, and I'm coming after you." She spoke seriously in a deadly tone, daring him to do otherwise.

Dean threw his arms up in surrender, rolling his eyes. "Fine. You win, sweetheart, you kill the big guy. You got anyway we can know him from the others if he's anywhere near there?"

"A scar," Alex said firmly, tapping the side of her face. "Should be blind in one eye." She smirked proudly. "I was five when I got him the first time. Then again," she added under her breath, her fingers skimming lightly across her stomach with a darkened look, "He also got me when that happened." Shaking that off, she pushed Sam forward, surprising the taller of the two Winchesters. "Come on."

In the end, it somehow turned out with Dean taking Alex with him around back and Sam going in the front, similar to their failed strategy with the witch Amelia. This time, however, they were certain it would work. Alex kept her gun ready, mentally checking off the multiple silver weapons she'd have to be careful of. She and Dean paused beside the back door of the house, both listening intently. Dean listened carefully, his brow furrowed thoughtfully as he waited. Suddenly, there was a screech from inside, followed by several shots of a gun and with ease, Dean broke through the door. Alex stuck close to him, her face an emotionless mask.

They made their way through the back of the house to a sitting room, where Sam was standing alone with two bodies crumpled on the ground, naked. Alex gazed coolly at them. She had no sympathy for the skinwalkers who got themselves killed. They were stupid, attempting to murder and create more for their packs. Sam nodded towards the stairs. "I heard something up there."

"Probably some more," Alex murmured thoughtfully. She motioned for Dean to go up the stairs first and followed him as he ascended. Sam kept close behind, making sure nothing popped out behind them.

There was a snarl, and then Dean was nearly thrown down the stairs with a curse. He jerked a silver dagger out of its hiding place, slamming it into the dog's throat. It gurgled on blood, thrashing weakly for a few moments before going limp, canine form shivering out of existence. Dean shoved the naked woman's body off of him with a look of disgust. "I don't do necrophilia," he muttered when Sam snickered.

Alex smirked, then whipped her gun up and fired a round off when a streak of silver lit the air for a brief moment. This time, it landed on her, sending her slamming back into Sam. Both went tumbling down the stairs at full force, Sam grunting when she landed on him. Pain rippled through her when the skinwalker buried its fangs in her calf, and she scrambled to find one of the silver weapons. Dean beat her to the punch, a gunshot ringing out seconds before the skinwalker went limp.

"Thanks," Alex muttered, examining her wound as Sam scrambled to his feet. She copied, then limped up the stairs. Dean waited at the top, half of his attention on her and Sam and the other on the area around them, searching for any other attacker. "Any sign of the one I want or Zane?"

"Who?" Dean muttered, raising an eyebrow.

"Jerk with my blade," Alex said bluntly, rolling her eyes. "Not anyone I some fun with, let me assure you. He got close, but not close enough." Grumbling under her breath, the young woman pushed past the snickering Dean and into a room upstairs, pistol ready. What she came across wasn't what she wanted, but was disgusting nonetheless...until she looked closer.

One of the sex-driven skinwalkers was a female she hadn't seen, but the other was none other than Zane. And right beside the bed the two were on and scrambling to cover themselves was her blade, sitting atop a decent looking nightstand. Alex had her gun up in an instant, firing off rounds with a cold anger that chilled even herself to the bone. She didn't usually feel such anger. She hit the female instantly, sending Zane into a snarling fury. But there was a bullet through his head before he could even get off the bed, and Alex clicked the safety of her gun on before tucking it at the small of her back and scooping up the strange blade she adored. Stroking the black metal, she smirked proudly and glared viciously at the bodies before turning to smile sweetly at the shocked Sam, who'd ducked through the doorway. "Okay," she said firmly. "We can go kill the one I want now."

"If he's even here," Dean muttered.

Alex inhaled sharply, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as she did so. Then she smirked. "Oh, he's here. And nobody else is left for us to worry about. Come on." She paused for a brief moment to try and locate specifically where the skinwalker who had turned her was, but was unable to.

Dean glanced outside of the room, then waved for them to follow, a finger at his lips to motion to them to be quiet. Sam readied his gun, stalking over with ease, and Alex lined her blade along her forearm before joining them. She peeked around the corner, ducking close to Dean to purposely make him uncomfortable though, to her disappointment, he didn't seem to notice. Movement caught her attention; there was a flicker of a shadow as someone moved along a wall.

"Ooh," Alex breathed, her blue eyes sparkling with a hard amusement. She was excited, eager to finally capture her revenge after years of hunting. "This is going to be fun."

Sam was the one who seemed to know exactly what she planned on doing. "Alex, don't just pop out, we might be able to-"

She interrupted him by suddenly morphing into a canine form, her ears flattening as she bolted. She curled her lips back in a snarl, lunging for the shadow...then came up short with wide eyes when a girl who reeked of humanity screamed, wheeling away from her. Alex jerked back as well, tripping over her own paws as she scrambled backwards. Dean and Sam materialized, guns at the ready. Before they could fire off any shots, however, Alex was in her human form again, lunging to get them to not fire. "Don't!" she gasped, "She's human! Completely and utterly human! She doesn't smell of anything else!"

Dean lowered his gun immediately, Sam copying at a slower pace as the girl pressed herself back against the wall, her entire body quivering. "Where am I?" she demanded. "Who the hell are you- don't come near me!" she cried when Alex took a step closer, her face softening. "Oh, my God, you're all monsters, just like those other ones, aren't you!?"  
"We're not the monsters," Dean retorted, looking annoyed. "Why is it that we get to be the monsters? Every single time..."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, then told the human girl, "I'm Sam. This is my brother, Dean. We're both humans. Alex is a skinwalker, yes, but she's not like the other ones, I promise. She's with us."

The human girl shuddered, turning her gaze away from Alex, and Alex growled under her breath, a hurt look crossing her face briefly. "We don't have to save you, you know," she spat in a temper, curling a lip. "Bloody humans. You're all a bunch of- shush!" She suddenly whirled around, canine as she did so. Her ears swiveled forward to listen intently to something only she could hear. She slid forward, looking more like a cat than a dog as she made her way down the hall. Dean glanced at Sam, nodding towards the human girl and Sam gave a curt nod in response. He would stay and make sure the girl was safe.

Dean hurried after Alex, making sure her red fur didn't leave his sight as he did so. He would let her kill the skinwalker if she wanted to, but if it was as powerful as she said he was, than she couldn't go alone. He wanted to slam his head against a wall. Here he was, protecting the back of a skinwalker he held no trust for. Or, he supposed, held no liking for. Alex had proven herself at _least_ once. When Gordon had been after Sam, it had been her to fend him off when he got close to killing his brother. And anyone who protected Sam earned at least a ribbon in his book.

Alex stopped, blue eyes locked on a massive form that had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. The black creature before them pulled its lips back in a snarl, and Alex responded with a vicious one of her own. "This him?" Dean demanded gruffly, raising his gun. Just because he'd agreed to keep back and let Alex do the fun stuff didn't mean he wouldn't shoot if it came after him.

Alex knelt, her hand reaching for her blade. "Yes," she hissed furiously, glaring dangerously. Even Dean was wary of the cold rage in her eyes. Alex wasn't generally like _this_ when she was in hunting mode. She thought rationally usually. There was no thinking like that for this version of her.

The other skinwalker changed forms as well, becoming a man with black hair and a milky eye that was blinded by a scar that ran from his brow to his jaw. "I remember you," he purred, "You're the fun little Brit I nearly got to eat years ago. Come to let me finish the job?"

"You wish," Alex said darkly, uncaring that both of them were nude. As she'd explained before to Sam, all modesty went out the window when you were a skinwalker. She ran her fingers along her arm, letting him see her blade ripple into existence. "This is the blade my mother tried to kill you with."

"And the one you nearly took my eye out with," the skinwalker growled, running a hand across his scarred face. Suddenly, he smirked, his eyes latching onto Dean. "Ah, got yourself a hunter buddy?"

"You," Dean said darkly, irritated, "Shut up."

"For once, we agree," Alex said with a false lightness, "But I think rather than you shutting yourself up, I'll do it for you." She launched forward, tackling the other skinwalker without hesitation. Both went rolling across the hall, slamming into a wall with Alex on the wrong side. She winced as her head cracked sharply with the plaster, smashing a hole in it, but then pushed him away, scrambling to gain the upper hand before Dean chose to step in.

A snarl stopped her dead in her tracks however. "You are weak," the other skinwalker crowed proudly, eyes gleaming furiously as she went still, her eyes wide with surprise. "You may have started as a human and you may be attempting to be a hunter, but you're still a skinwalker, girl, forced to obey the command of the Alpha."

Alex gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to remain as she was as the older skinwalker glared full out at her, a command in his gaze.

"Hey!" A gunshot went off and shocked, the skinwalker tore his gaze from hers to snarl at Dean when blood blossomed at a bullet wound on his shoulder. Alex took her chance, more than likely the only chance she'd have, and lunged forward with a semi-crazed grin as she plunged her blade into his back, letting herself enjoy the feeling of a blade shearing through flesh and even bone. _This_ was the man who'd killed her family, turned her into what she was and hunted now. And now, she thought with delight as he went limp beneath her, he was dead. At last, years of searching had come to an end. And an end she wanted, as well.

She shot Dean a look. "You interfered," she accused, irritation clouding her sense of victory and triumph.

Dean rolled his eyes. "You wanted to kill him. You got to, sweetheart. I was just helping you out."

"Jerk," she muttered.

"Bitch," he retorted.

"For that," Alex muttered, "You get to deal with Miss Princess while Sammy and I go pack up the motel."

Dean flicked the safety of his gun on, then tucked it away. Turning away from Alex, he shook his head in annoyance, through a smirk flickered momentarily across his face. "Nice try, woman. _Sam_ gets to handle crazy lady."

"...I can agree with that," Alex decided, then simply shifted into her canine form, annoyed with the obvious looks she was receiving from her fellow hunter. Silently, she glared at him, though there was no true anger behind the gaze.

For the first time since meeting each other, both were willing to agree to a silent truce.

* * *

 _Another quick chapter...:D_


	4. A Very Supernatural Christmas

**|December 24, 2006|**

The light of a flickering fire cast shadows across a peaceful looking living room. It was quiet, the room empty except for the regular furniture a living room usually had and a fireplace. But, on top of all of that, one had to include the many, many Christmas decorations that littered room. Stockings hung from the mantle of the fireplace, which was topped with an antique ticking clock. A Christmas tree stood tall and proud in a corner, between a couch and a love seat, bright green contrasting against the silver ornaments that decorated it and the few, carefully wrapped gifts that rested beneath it.

On a rug in the center of the room sat a boy, playing with a toy train that he remembered opening on Christmas Day the previous year. He stopped, however, looking up when the doorbell rang. He rushed to open the door despite his parents' many, many previous warnings not to do so, and threw it open with a bright grin, already knowing who it was. "Merry Christmas, Grandpa."

His grandfather smiled broadly. "Oh, Merry Christmas to you, too, Stevie." He tightly hugged his grandson, then nudged him aside and stepped into the warm house, closing the front door behind him as Stevie eagerly demanded to know if he'd brought any gifts for the boy. "Now," he teased lightly, "Why would I want to do that?"

Stevie pouted. "'Cause it's Christmas."

His grandpa feigned ignorance. "Oh, I thought Santa Claus brought the presents at Christmas." He paused, glancing at Stevie. "You _have_ been a good boy this year, haven't you?"

"I have, I swear," Stevie said hastily, eyes wide. At least, he thought, as far as he could remember outside of a few tantrums as children his age often threw.

His grandfather smiled. "Well, then, who knows? Maybe he'll come."

* * *

Rushing to put on the correct clothing that he _knew_ was needed, Stevie's grandfather hurriedly put on a white fake beard along with a hat. He adjusted both, making sure that he looked like a "proper" Santa Claus, then picked up a set of jingle bells he'd picked up earlier that day on his way to his child's house. He quickly began to place presents under the tree, taking them out of his big red bag one at a time.

Stevie, hearing the bells, came running, of course. Curious, he peered down the stairs and stared at the disguised man with shock. "Santa!" he whispered.

Pretending not to notice his appearance, the grandfather continued to remove presents from his bag, placing them under the Christmas tree...but then paused when there was the sound of thumping on the roof. He dismissed it at first, especially when Stevie gave small gasp of "Reindeer!", but stopped when ash fell from the chimney and into the fireplace. Suspicious, he moved over to investigate, wary. It was silent for a moment as he looked up the chimney, but the silence was interrupted when he was suddenly ripped up the chimney with a scream, disappearing up into it.

Startled beyond belief, Stevie slowly descended the rest of the way down the stairs, moving to peer up after "Santa". "...Santa?" he said softly, eyes wide.

His answer came in the form of a bloody boot falling from the chimney and onto the living room floor.

* * *

 **|December, 2007|**

Eyes full of sympathy for the girl that stood just inside, looking outside through the glass door that led to her home, Alex listened intently to the mother's words, searching for any hidden clues as to what might have caused their pain. "Um," the woman said softly, shakily, "my daughter and I were in our beds. Mike was downstairs, decorating the tree. I...I heard a thump on the roof, and he screamed, and now here I am, talking to the FBI."

Dean glanced at Alex, who was disguised as a dog again, though she was sure that the FBI didn't generally work with canines. "And you didn't see any of it?"

The woman shook her head. "No," she murmured. "He was... He was just gone."

"The doors were locked? There was no forced entry?"

Again, she shook her head. "That's right."

Dean studied the house over the woman's head for a moment, taking in the sight of the girl watching dully through the glass door. A few more questions later, Sam came walking out of the house, his brow furrowed in thought as he said, "Thanks for letting me have a look around, Mrs. Walsh. I think we got just about everything we need. We're all set," he added to Dean and Alex.

Dean merely waved his words off. "We'll be in touch."

They turned to leave, Alex keeping close to Dean, who held the leash she was attached to. Her ears swiveled back and she pretended to be simply a dog, scratching an ear when Mrs. Walsh called out and the Winchester brothers glanced back. "The police said my husband might have been kidnapped."

"Could be," Dean said with a shrug.

"Then why haven't the kidnappers called?" Mrs. Walsh sounded desperate, and Alex's heart swelled with even more sympathy for the miserable woman and her daughter. "O-or demanded a ransom? It's three days till Christmas. What am I supposed to to tell our daughter?"

Sam murmured an apology, and the trio simply walked away as the sniffling mother turned to go back inside. "Find anything?" Dean asked, turning to look at his brother.

Sighing, Sam dug something out of his pocket and handed it over. "Stocking, mistletoe...this."

Alex wrinkled her nose when Dean lowered his hand to show it to her. "A tooth?" he muttered, repeating her thoughts aloud unintentionally. "Where was _this_?" He held it up, examining it, and Alex growled in disgust.

"In the chimney."

The skinwalker snorted in amusement when Dean arched an eyebrow at his brother. "Chimney? No way a man fits up a chimney. It's too narrow."

"No way he fits up in one piece," Sam pointed out. Alex simply shook her head at the eldest Winchester's "stupidity" and fell back into thinking, her thoughts trying to get a hold of what she could remember that might do such a thing. But she had nothing, much to her annoyance.

"Alright, so if dad went up the chimney..."

"We need to find out what dragged him up there," Sam finished for his brother.

Alex lifted her gaze to the sky. _Dear Lord, I'm working with a bunch of bloody idiots that are into stating the obvious!_

* * *

Struggling to think of what they might be dealing with as she studied the pictures of the different demons on the wall of their current motel room, Alex scowled. Near her, Sam was also looking into the issue, though being much more effective at it due to the fact that he was simply tapping away on the internet. Narrowing her eyes, she said warningly, "I'll get that thing eventually, Sam, just you wait."

"You can try," he retorted, "You won't succeed, Alex. Remember last time?"

Alex opened her mouth to colorfully swear at him about "last time", but was interrupted when the door opened and Dean came inside, carrying a brown paper bag with him. "So?" he prompted as he glanced between them. "Was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?"

"You're an idiot, Winchester," Alex said bluntly, snatching the bag away to dig around in it for her portion of food, earning a glare from Dean. The two broke into a small back and forth about something or another that she refused to pay attention to until Dean returned to their original topic. "It turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month."

Sam looked away momentarily from his computer. "The other guy get dragged up the chimney, too?"

"Don't know," Dean admitted, "Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof."

"So what do you think we're dealing with, Sam?" Alex questioned, tearing a bite out of her burger. "Because I, quite honestly, have nothing to input into the conversation here. And I want to get a move on. I'm bored. Food is nice and all, but...you twats have no interesting conversations."

Dean's expression darkened. "The hell did you just call me?"

"I actually have an idea," Sam said hurriedly, determined to keep a spat from breaking out between the two temperamental ones, "Uh, it's going to sound crazy." Dean muttered something about nothing possibly sounding crazy compared to Alex, but Sam merely smiled slightly. "Um...evil Santa."

Dean blinked, then nodded. "Yeah, that's crazy."

Alex simply roared with laughter, nearly cackling as she choked out, "Sam, where in the bloody hell did you come up with such a thing?"

Sam rolled his eyes, waving at his computer screen as he turned it to show them pictures of what he was talking about. "Yeah...I mean, I'm just saying that there's some version of the anti-Claus in every culture. You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter. Whatever you call it, there's all sorts of lore."

Dean glanced up from the screen he was examining, and Alex curiously questioned, "What do they say?"

"Back in the day, Santa's brother went rogue and now he shows up around Christmas time, but instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked."

"By hauling their ass up chimneys?" Dean said blankly, rolling his eyes in amusement.

"Uh, yeah."

"So this is your theory, huh? Santa's shady brother?"

"it sounds ridiculous, Sam," Alex stated to clarify what Dean meant.

"I'm jsut saying that's what the lore says," Sam snapped, defending himself hastily. "It's not my theory exactly. Just repeating what I'm reading."

"Yeah, well, sorry to break it to you, love," Alex said, "but there is no Santa Claus."

"Yeah, I know," Sam muttered, shooting a look at Dean before looking down with a sigh. "Dean's the one who told me that in the first place." He shook his head. "Yeah, I guess I could be wrong."

Dean shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not." Both glanced at him curiously and he reported, "I did a little digging - shut up, Alex," he added when she opened her mouth to taunt him, "And it turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched."

Sam couldn't keep the curiosity out of his voice as he rocked his chair back. "Where?"

* * *

Alex stared blankly at the space around them, her eyes dancing with the laughter she fought to hold back as the familiar sound of "Silent Night" filled her ears. Around them, children played and people wearing the costumes of elves walked around. Finally, a smile crossed her lips in a way that made Dean scowl at her. "Shut up, Alex"

"Anti-Claus?" Sam said incredulously. He studied the Christmas-y place around them with a look of embarrassment. Alex grinned. The moose didn't like being seen at a place for children. "Couldn't be."

Dean grinned, his eyes flicking around them for a moment. "It's a Christmas miracle! Hey, by the way. We should have one this year?" Sam glanced questioningly at him. "A Christmas."

Sam's gaze hardened. "No, thanks."

"We'll get a tree, a little Boston Market. Just like when we were little," Dean insisted, but Sam shook his head, annoyed.

"Dean, those weren't exactly "Hallmark memories" for me, you know." Dean frowned and Sam shook his head. "No, just...no."

Dean, huffing, turned away. "Alright...Grinch."

Alex snickered, though she let her gaze flicker curiously between the two. The skinwalker had yet to learn about what this rush was for the two Winchesters. She could have sworn she'd heard some sort of clue the other day, when something they had shouted at each other had cut both of them off with glances towards her. Even as a skinwalker with excellent senses and memories, however, she couldn't remember. Dean walked off, and Alex took a brief moment to contemplate who to follow...or not. Dean, who was peering curiously at a few things, or Sam, who was staring uncomfortably at a reindeer statue, as if lost in thought.

She chose the former, not wanting to interrupt Sammy's "thinking time".

"You'd think with the ten bucks it costs to get into this place," Dean said to her with disgust, glaring at the brown ground, "Santa could scrounge up a bit of snow."

Alex smirked, looking amused by his comment. "Hey, not everyone has a white Christmas. I, myself, had one last year when I was hunting down a chupacabra in Arizona..." Dean smirked at her comment, as if disbelieving. "What?"

"Sam and I mess around with each other about those," he commented. "Never actually hunted one, though." Dean shook his head, then frowned when Alex stared at him with a smirk materializing on her face. "What's so funny?"

"Dean Winchester hasn't hunted, of all things, a common chupacabra?" Alex clasped her hands together with a gleeful look crossing her blue eyes as she spoke, then turned to face Sam as the moose of a man finally decided to rejoin her and his brother. "Well? Want to tell us what we're looking for again?"

"Uh," Sam muttered, pausing to look around them at the "village" of "elves". "Lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smells like sweets."

Dean huffed. "Great. So we're looking for a pimp Santa. Why the sweets."

"Someone's being a bloody idiot today," Alex muttered under her breath with a snicker. "Think about it, fool. You smell like candy, the little ones are more willing to come up to you."

Dean made a face of disgust, making his brother snort in amusement, then questioned, "And this thing knows who's been naughty or nice how?" Sam gave a shrug, and looked at Alex, who flushed and turned her face away, muttering something about how she couldn't be expected to know anything under her breath - then froze, her hand darting out to grasp Dean's jacket-clad sleeve. "Dean. Sam."

Both followed her gaze to where a man in a Santa Claus costume was sitting, just outside a small looking barn. As they watched, a young boy walked up, his hand in his mother's. The man dressed as Santa patted his knee with a hoarse cough. "So, Ronny, come sit on Santa's knee." Looking uncomfortable, the boy did as he was told, looking at his mother for saving, but she merely beamed. "Ah, there you go. You been a good boy this year?" The boy silently nodded. "Good. Santa's got a special gift for you."

Dean glanced at Alex with a gleam in his green eyes, a smirk materializing. "Oh, but we know how."

Suddenly, they were interrupted by a woman in an elf costume walking up, smiling brightly at them. "Hello," she greeted, "Welcome to Santa's Court. May I escort your child to Santa."

The trio of hunters went still, exchanging looks nervously. Sam stammered for a moment before Dean said, "No, no. Uh, but my brother here...it's been a lifelong dream of his." Alex choked on air in surprise at this comment, and Dean found himself grinning largely at the woman.

She looked awkwardly at Sam. "Uh, sorry. No kids over twelve."

Sam waved his hand in front of him, shaking his head desperately. "No, he's just kidding, I swear. We only came here to watch."

Alex bit her lip in an attempt at hiding a smile, shaking her head, and the woman muttered a "ew" before walking off. Finally, Alex burst into a series of laughter, joined by a smirking Dean as Sam glared at both of them. "Thanks a lot, Dean. Thanks for that. Just what I needed."

Dean simply gave him a crooked grin before his face suddenly changed into a serious look. "Check it out," he murmured, nodding in the direction of the Santa, who was leaving his chair and walking past them with a horribly bad limp. Alex inhaled quietly, then gave a low growl, eyes flashing furiously. "Candy," she breathed. "Definitely candy."

"A lot of people walk with limps," Sam pointed out, but Dean shook his head.

"He smells of candy, Sam," Alex pointed out, her eyes narrowing warily. Their icy blue color was a sliver as she growled, "I think we've found our culprit."

Dean pursed his lips together. "Maybe, but are we willing to take that risk?"

* * *

Her eyes never leaving the house that they watched, Alex silently sipped at a thermos of coffee, cradling it in her palms from where she was perched in the passenger seat of the Impala. Beside her, Dean was watching as well. The home of the Santa Claus they'd seen earlier was quiet so far, but nobody wanted to take the chance when it came to saving more lives. Sam had decided to stay back at their motel room and look into the myths more, leaving the two that supposedly hated each other alone.

"What time is it?" Dean muttered to her.

"Time for you to get a watch," Alex retorted despite the glare he gave her. She shoved the thermos at him. Dean went to sip at it, but scowled when not a single drop of the coffee came out. "Thanks for drinking it all."

She smirked slightly. "Of course." She gave him a playful wink, then suddenly tensed, her eyes latching onto the house. "Dean. There." He leaned closer, looking over her shoulder at the trailer as the man they'd been following looked outside before closing his curtains.

Dean frowned. "What's up with Saint Nicotine?"

The sound of a woman's cry had both of them exchanging looks. Alex ripped the door open, shifting even as she did so, her fur puffed up in a dangerous look as she pulled her lips back in a snarl. Dean drew his gun out of hiding and darted after her, stopping to look inside the window of the front door before opening it. He paused, then hid his gun with the fake Santa Claus stood, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. "What the hell are you doing here?" he barked out roughty.

Alex and Dean stared at the TV for a moment, both realizing fairly quickly what the man was watching before Dean simply shook his head, as if stunned. Alex smoothed her fur, quickly forcing herself to become a friendly dog. She woofed, wagging her tail and then shoved at Dean with her shoulder, encouraging him to say something. Dean snapped out of his surprise at the fact that the older man had been watching rather interesting programs and gave an obviously fake grin. "Would you be interested in donating to the local animal shelter...?"

Furious, Alex stormed into the motel room, her gaze a blizzard of rage. "Go let yourself get eaten by a chupacabra, Winchester," she snarled as she slammed the front door in his face despite that he was staying in the same room as she and Sam, who'd jumped to his feet with a gun in his hand with surprise at the sudden yelling.

Dean ripped it open after, glowering furiously at this comment. "I'm sorry I couldn't think of something better, alright? You told me to talk, I talked. What the hell was I supposed to say, Alex? There was a freaking enormous dog sitting on the guy's front step with a complete stranger! Can't you have a...a...cuter dog or somethin'?"

"He was drunk," Alex seethed, "He called me the ugliest creature he'd ever seen, and he told you to get "the fucking beast" off of his property. Screw off and go to Hell, Winchester," she snarled. She didn't notice the tension that appeared in Dean's body at the comment, but Sam's gaze darkened angrily.

"Alex, don't talk like that," he said sharply, more so than he'd ever spoken to her. She merely scowled, her temper flaring even further, though it faded away when she saw the looks on their faces.

"Oh," she murmured, her eyes widening into round orbs. "That's what you two have been hiding, isn't it?" Dean stiffened even more. "Dean's got a deal like Bela did. And it's almost time to collect." She shook her head, looking almost disappointed. "Excuse me if I don't feel sympathetic for the hunter who knew better but made a deal with demons..."

"Sam was dead thanks to a demon known as Azazel," Dean said with a bluntness that worried her. "I did what I had to. Sam didn't have any choice in the matter."

Alex glanced curiously at Sam. "Seriously? You were dead at one point?" Sam scowled at the question, and Alex shook her head, throwing an arm up to stop his answer. "Never mind, bad question. But seriously." Her eyes softened just barely. "How much do you have _left_?"

"Five months, more or less," Dean said gruffly, turning away. "They only gave me a year to bring Sammy back." Alex shook her head in exasperation, and he muttered, "They had the upper hand."

"Okay," Alex murmured, pinching the bridge of her nose. "So now I'm fully aware of what the hell is going on when you guys go off on your little brotherly talks. I'm sorry that you guys have to go through this, but..." She decided that changing the subject sounded like a much better idea at this point. "Sam. The drunk bastard wasn't the bloody anti-Claus. What the bloody hell were you doing while we were gone? I swear to God, Sam Winchester, if you were faffing around while we were dealing with that-"

Sam, looking utterly at a loss with all of her, as Dean would call it, British talk, cut her off. "Yeah...didn't find anything new on the anti-Claus, but there was another case. It was on the other side of the town, but...Bobby sent me the information. I'll check it out some more and we can go speak with the family tomorrow morning."

"Sounds good to me," Dean grunted, shrugging off his jacket. Alex flopped down on a bed, spreading out on it with a challenging glare at Dean, and he rolled his eyes...only to glance back a moment later when Alex shrieked. Sam had stood, smirking as he hooked an arm around the flailing skinwalker and picked her up, instead dumping her on the couch. Dean let a smile cross his face. "Looks like the bed is mine tonight, Alex," he told her, taking her place on the bed.

Sam quickly took residence on the second motel bed, and Alex pouted at both of them over the back of the couch. "Come on," she protested, relieved that the serious conversation was gone. "You guys got the beds at the last place!"

"Newbie sleeps on the couch," Sam retorted, then threw an arm over his eyes.

"...your laptop is mine," Alex chimed back, making Sam sit up quickly as she darted for the machine. He practically dove off the bed to stop her, but Alex grabbed it and ran back to the couch, cackling the entire way there.

Despite his previous statements, Dean found himself warming up to the skinwalker. Alex was trying, he realized, to cheer not just Sam, but him up, too, even if it was in a weird way.

Alex rolled off the side of the couch, even as Sam desperately reached over it, trying desperately to get his laptop back. But Alex sprang lightly to her feet, waving it around in triumph. Dean threw an arm over his eyes.

 _Damn, they're noisy._

* * *

 **|Next Day...|**

"So, that's how your son described the attack?" Dean said incredulously, looking utterly bewildered. He was once again dressed in his suit, playing as the FBI alongside his brother and this time, Alex was, too, dressed in a black blouse and pencil skirt, making her look professional as she examined the wreath above the fireplace, murmuring quietly to Sam. " _'Santa took daddy up the chimney'_?"

The woman nodded, shifting her weight uncomfortably and hugging herself. "That's what he's told me, yes. I was asleep and all of a sudden... I was being dragged out of my bed, screaming."

Sam wandered over, though Alex remained beside the wreath, squinting at it. "Did you see the attacker?"

She shook her head. "It was dark," she said quietly, "and he hit me. I was knocked out." Tears gathered in her eyes and she quivered slightly, making Dean murmur a sympathetic apology to her.

Alex suddenly piped up, her gaze still on the Christmas wreath, "Mrs. Caldwell, where did you get this wreath?" The three that were talking turned to stare at her and she shrugged. "The other murders that have occurred in a similar fashion, their homes have all had a wreath similar to this."

"Seriously," Dean snapped as they made their way away from the home a few minutes later. "Wreaths?"

"Seriously," Alex retorted, "Wreaths. Sam agrees with me. The Walshes had one hanging on their front door yesterday when we were checking it out. Remember? Honestly. You're an idiot, you know that?" She scowled, irritably climbing into the Impala's passenger seat and making Sam frown.

"She's right, Dean," Sam added, "There was a wreath at the Walshes', exactly like she said."

"I know," Dean protested, "I was just testing you." They climbed into the car, where Alex immediately launched into a rant, making Dean half tempted to simply open the door and push her out before driving off. Just to piss her off, he cranked up some music to drown her out, earning a furious glare. Sam, to his surprise, sent him a grateful look despite his disagreement with Dean's choice in music.

Shaking his head, Dean pulled out of the driveway of the latest victims' house. _Seriously,_ he grumbled, _noisy._

* * *

Watching with owlishly wide icy blue eyes, Alex stared at Sam as he spoke on the phone with a Bobby Singer, someone she had yet to meet, she realized. They had been chatting for a little while about what could possibly be going on as Alex and Dean helped themselves to some Christmas cookies Alex had purchased at a nearby gas station.

Finally, the conversation came to an end. "Yeah. Well, keep looking, would you? Thanks, Bobby." He hung up, turning to face them. He made his way over, plucking up two cookies to munch on himself. "Well, we're not dealing with the anti-Claus. Bobby said that you and I were a bunch of morons and since he doesn't know Alex yet, nothing about her. He also said that it was probably meadow sweet in those wreaths." He sat down, snatching the laptop Alex had been playing on out of her lap and setting to work on typing on it, ignoring her pout.

"Wow, amazing," Dean said sarcastically, making Alex snicker. "What the hell is meadow sweet?"

Smugly, Alex relayed the information Sam was about to spit out. "It's rare, Winchester, really rare. And it's one of the most powerful plants in pagan lore."

Dean arched an eyebrow and Sam gave a nod of agreement. Pulling up an article on what they were talking about, Sam showed his brother the laptop's screen. "Yeah. See? They used meadow sweet for human sacrifices. It was kind of like chum for their gods."

"They were drawn to it. It was pretty much an invitation to stop by and snack on the nearest human," Alex finished, examining her nails thoughtfully. "Kind of makes you wonder why somebody would be using it for Christmas wreaths though..."

"Not as crazy as it sounds," Sam replied. "I mean, pretty much every Christmas tradition has pagan bases."

Dean snorted, frowning. "Chirstmas is the birthday of Jesus. The hell are you talking about?" He reached for another cookie, only to find the last three in Alex's hands. Smirking, the skinwalker teasingly waved her hand and took a large bite out of one of them. Dean narrowed his eyes, readily preparing himself to quickly grab one.

"Jesus's birthday was probably in the fall," Sam answered without looking up. "It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the church and renamed "Christmas". But I mean, the Yule log, the tree, even Santa's red suit - that's all remnants of pagan worship, Dean."

Alex smirked, finishing off the first cookie and starting on the second. Dean scowled, then darted out a hand to grab one, only for her to jerk them out of his reach. "How do you know that? What are you gonna tell me next, Sammy?" He gave a sarcastic smirk. "Easter bunny suddenly Jewish?" Sam rolled his eyes, and Dean finally decided he was going to be serious again. "So you two think we're dealing with a pagan god?"

"If what I remember is correct," Alex murmured, "Then Hold Nickar, the god of the winter solstice. I'm not sure if I'm right though," she added when Sam glanced to her.

"No," Sam reassured, "That's what I was thinking." He clicked to another article on his laptop, continuing, "The wreaths are pretty much a neon sign on the front door that's begging the god to come and kill whoever put it up." He leaned forward, as if proximity with the machine would give him a better idea of what he was reading. "And when you sacrifice to Hold Nickar, guess what he gives you in return?"

"Lap dances, hopefully," Dean muttered.

"Mild weather," Sam corrected.

"Like no snow despite the fact that it's the middle of December in _Michigan_ ," Alex murmured, then tilted her head back thoughtfully. "But when we were checking these places out, I didn't smell anything like that. Mind you, the bloody wreaths' scents were clogging my sense of smell, but..."

"Anyways..." Sam shoved his laptop back onto the coffee table...just in time to nearly be kicked as Dean lunged for the final cookie in Alex's hand. Alex grinned as she easily dove off the couch, only to be practically tackled by Dean, pinned to the ground as he pried the cookie from her hands. "Nice try," he muttered to the skinwalker, stuffing the sweet in his mouth.

Alex squirmed underneath him, grunting. "Get off, you bloody idiot. I can't-" she cut off with a wheezing yelp when he moved off of her, making sure to purposely dig his knee in for a moment. "Ow! Damn it, Winchester!"

"Anyways," Sam repeated, ignoring the banter, "I think we should go find out if the wreaths are being sold on purpose, to feed the victims to the god."

"I agree," Alex said, rubbing her back as she stood. She shook her hair out, like a dog might do its fur, then pushed it out of her face with a pale hand. "Alright, fools. How do we kill it when we find it?"

"Bobby's looking into it," Sam replied confidently.

"I still need to meet him," Alex mused. "Oh, to hell with it all. Let's go find ourselves some wreath...sellers?" She paused, her "pep talk" cut off by her confusion over what to call those who specifically sold Christmas wreaths.

"Sounds 'bout right," Dean said with a shrug, brushing crumbs from his mouth.

Without another word, the trio ducked out of the motel room, locking it behind them. After a short spat between Sam and Alex that ended with the skinwalker scowling in the backseat of the Impala, they were well on their way to the shop they'd decided quickly to check out. Grumbling, Alex let her fingers trail along the black blade that was lined up on her arm, curiosity momentarily appearing on her features. _Hm...wonder if this thing kills gods, too...?_

* * *

It took them a mere twenty minutes to find the shop they were looking for. And when they did, Alex waved both of them off, climbing out of the car. "I've got this, boys. Dean will end up accusing you of being a girl again, Sam, and we don't have time for that if people are dying."

Alex, it appeared, had fallen into her serious mood. Ignoring the scowl that once again appeared on Dean's face alongside an irritation in his green eyes, she sauntered into the shop, practically humming to herself. The shopkeeper eyed her warily. "Can I help you?"

Alex gave him a charming smile. "I believe you can. Some friends and I were over at the Walshes' the other night, before that rather...sad thing happened, and my lovely friend can't shut up about the beautiful wreath they had. I would be very chuffed if you could tell me if it's in stock?"

"I don't know," the shopkeeper said, his eyes roving up and down her body. Alex fought back the urge to gag. The guy was _at least_ thirty to forty years out of her usual fun night range. "Describe the wreath you want?"

Okay. So the guy was...entertained by her. She could use that to her advantage though it disgusted her. Smirking, she leaned over the counter, letting her lithe form drape against it, well aware that her companions were probably watching from the Impala. There were, after all, windows on every wall of the store. "Green leaves. White buds. Made of meadow sweet?"

"Ah," the shopkeeper said, giving her a grin. She struggled to _not_ make a face at the stench of tobacco that came from him. "I know which one you're talkin' about. We're all out."

Alex froze. She hadn't been expecting _that_. "Oh. Do you know who makes them, then?" She was back to fluttering her eyelashes at him in an instant, though she wasn't very happy to be doing so. At least she was getting more information out of him. Sam and Dean would have taken _forever_ and gotten a lot less information...

"Madge Carrigan, local lady," the shopkeeper responded eagerly. "Apparently they were so special, she gave 'em to me for free."

Alex arched her eyebrows, letting the light hit her blue eyes that gleamed with a fake innocence. "She didn't charge you?" He shook his head. "Did you sell them for free, sir?"

The shopkeeper smirked. "Hell no. Christmas time. People flock from everywhere to buy that crap."

Alex winked, rocking back on her heels. "I see. Thank you for that information, my kind sir." She didn't like the look in that man's eyes, so she nodded towards the waiting Impala, feeling a moment of gratitude that Dean didn't up and drive off without her. He followed her gaze, a look of disappointment crossing his face when she said, "My boyfriend, his brother, and I will look elsewhere then. Thank you for your time."

Oh, Dean was going to definitely try and kill her when he heard about this, Alex thought smugly as she practically danced out of the store, throwing herself happily into the back seat. "Sammy, got your lap top? Sam," she corrected with a sigh at the look they gave her. "Look up one Madge Carrigan. She's the maker of the wreaths."

As Sam set to work on looking the information up, Dean turned in his seat to look at her. "So how much do you think a meadow sweet wreath is, anyways?"

"A couple hundred good ones, at least," Sam answered without looking up, still tapping away at the keyboard as he looked into the woman they were trying to find.

Dean contemplated this, shoving a hand through his hair and tugging thoughtfully at the amulet that hung from around his neck. "The lady's giving 'em away for free? What do you think about that?"

"Sounds suspicious to me," Alex murmured, zipping up her leather jacket with a thoughtful look. The trio fell into a comfortable silence until Dean suddenly spoke up again.

"Hey, Sammy." He nudged at his brother until Sam glanced up at him. "Remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?"

"You mean the one he stole from a liquor store?" Sam said bluntly, shoving the laptop at Alex with a grudging look when he realized this was going to be a longer conversation. Alex gleefully set to work on looking Madge Carrigan up.

"Yeah," Dean said with a broad grin. "It was a bunch of empty beer cans. The thing was great. Bet if I looked around hard enough, I could find one just like it."

"Okay," Sam said after a moment of giving Dean a strange look. "What's going on with you?" Dean glanced questioningly at him, and he continued, "I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden, Dean? Why do you want to have Christmas so bad? You've never been this way before now."

Dean narrowed his eyes and smacked a hand impatiently on the wheel of his Impala. "Why are you so against it, damn it? Were the childhood memories I gave you _that_ traumatic?"

"Probably," Alex muttered, adding her thoughts in as she scanned the computer screen before her. "Seriously. I'd be worried about his head if I hadn't seen the way he hunts sometimes. Especially with you hanging around all the time when you two were kids."

Both chose to ignore the skinwalker, and Sam shook his head in answer to his brother's question. "Then what?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Sam said with a muffled voice, "I just...I don't get it, Dean. You haven't talked about having a Christmas in years."

"Well, yeah. This is my last year."

The mood in the car quite suddenly became sullen, and Alex paused in typing on the laptop, deciding that the noise wasn't good for the situation that had suddenly arisen. "That's why I can't," Sam said quietly, "I can't just sit around drinking eggnog and pretending everything's okay. Not when I know you'll be dead next Christmas."

They three fell into a silence for a few moments after Dean acknowledged his words. But Alex suddenly gave a triumphant cry. "Ha! Found her! Madge Carrigan, only a few miles south of here. Why don't we take a second to go check her out?"

Sam latched onto the way out of a depressing moment. "Definitely. Come on, Dean, we've got a god to find."

Dean merely shook his head, what looked like disappointment on his face as he started the Impala again and pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

Eyeing the large white house before them, decorated from top to bottom in Christmas decorations, Alex gave a soft huff. "Huh. So this is where the creator of the meadow sweet wreaths lives, huh?"

Dean snorted. "Can't you just _feel_ the evil pagan vibe, Alex?"

She shoved at him, then loped up to the door with Sam and Dean close behind her, each with a hidden gun at the smalls of their backs. Dean lightly pushed past Alex, placing his hands on her shoulders to move her out of the way before knocking. It only took a few moments for a woman to answer the door. "Yes?"

Dean gave her his signature charming grin, the smile that usually worked on women at the bar. "Please tell me you're the Madge Carrigan who makes the meadow sweet wreaths."

She beamed, glancing at Alex, who was staring sharply at her, as if suspicious of something. "Why, yes I am."

"Ha!" Dean said smugly, "Bingo."

"We were just admiring your wreaths in Mr. Sylar's place the other day," Alex lied sweetly, trying to get the woman's attention off of her face. Madge commented on something about meadow sweet, and she flashed pearly whites at the woman. "It smells lovely. Problem is...the your wreaths are sold out. We didn't get the chance to but one. Do you happen to have any more we could buy from you?"

Madge shook her head, letting a sigh escape her. "Well, fudge. Oh, I'm afraid they were the only ones I had for this season..."

"Tell me something," Dean said suddenly. Sam gave him a warning look, especially when a man began to descend the stairs. "Why did you decide to make the wreaths out of meadow sweet, Mrs. Carrigan?"

"Why, the smell of course!" Madge said firmly. "There's nothing that's every smelled finer."

Sam gave a tight smile. "Yeah, you've mentioned that."

"What's going on, honey?" Madge's husband questioned, squinting at the trio of hunters that studied them with an equally wary look on their faces. "These young ones bothering you?"

"Just some nice kids asking about my wreaths, dear," Madge said with a kind voice, shooting them a bright smile that was just a hint too fake for Alex's liking. Nevertheless, she kept quiet, not wanting to say anything.

"Oh, the wreaths are fine," he said with a smile. "Fine wreaths. Peanut brittle?"

As Dean reached for one and Sam frowned, smacking his hand away and telling the Carrigans that they were fine, Alex peered into the house, inhaling sharply. Two particular scents caught her attention, but she chose to not mention them for the moment. She knew exactly who the gods were now. But saying such things in front of said gods wouldn't do them much good...

* * *

Alex sucked on her thumb with a wince as Dean sharpened a wooden stake over a trashcan that barely caught any shavings, attempting to work out a sliver she'd gotten while helping him. Nearby, Sam used his laptop, narrowing his eyes at the screen. "I'm telling you bloody fools," she muttered, "Vervain and mint. Not holly."

"Yeah, I noticed that," Sam muttered, then smirked, clapping his hands together. "Ha! Knew it! Something was way off with those two!"

Dean paused, knife held just above the wooden stake. "What'd you find?"

Reading off the laptop, Sam said smugly, "The Carrigans lived in Seattle last year, where two abductions took place right around Christmas. Soon as Christmas ends, they move here. All of that Christmas stuff in their house...just like Alex said. That wasn't boughs of holly. Vervain and mint."

"Definitely serious pagan stuff," Alex murmured, grinning when she succeeded at finally removing her sliver. She snatched up another piece of wood, picking up her black blade to begin sharpening it.

"So...what?" Dean asked, glaring at Alex when shavings ended up on his sleeve. "Ozzie and Harriet are keeping a god underneath the plastic-covered couch?"

Alex lightly kicked at him. "Who knows," she teased, "Maybe they've got him hidden in a bloody cabinet under the stairs." Blank looks had her grumbling under her breath about their lack of British literature knowledge later, she muttered, "So what about that friend of yours? He positively sure stakes of evergreen wood will kill it?"

Dean examined his sharpened stake. "Pretty sure, sounds like." He stood up, shrugging his shoulders slowly before beginning to gather up their sharpened stakes. Alex quickly finished with the one she was working on, then began to help him pick them up with a soft sigh. Sam shut his laptop and set it aside before coming over to help them out, stuffing the stakes into a backpack he'd dumped out on a motel bed. Counting them to make sure they each had at least three, the trio were finally prepared to head out on the actual hunt.

"Time to find out if my blade wins against pagan gods," Alex said smugly, letting the blade shimmer into view for a brief moment before it vanished again. "If not, you guys had better be ready to back me up, because I'm screwed otherwise."

Dean rolled his eyes. "There's a reason we're going in with the stakes, Alex. Screw the sword thing and go at them with what kills 'em for certain."

"And I need to see what this thing's completely good against, sorry to disappoint you." Alex spoke smugly, glaring challengingly at both of them. Dean just sighed and lifted his eyes to the sky before muttering, "Do whatever the hell you want." Sam shrugged before heading out to the Impala. Much to their relief, the neighborhood wasn't too far away, but not too close either, and Alex found herself dozing off in the back of the Impala as Dean drove.

Sam glanced back at the very lightly napping Alex, then glanced at Dean, who was staring at the road with his pre-hunt face on. "...Dean."

"Yo," Dean answered, glancing over his shoulder at the road behind them before shifting lanes.

"Still thinking the skinwalker is a bad idea?" Sam smirked knowingly when Dean shot him a glare. "Come on, you don't mind not taking as much time to find out what we're up against most of the time."

"No, I don't," Dean admitted, rubbing a hand down his face. "It means less people die. But she's...I dunno. What we've hunted for too long to trust. I wouldn't count on her with my life if I had the choice."

"Thanks for that," a hard voice interrupted their conversation. Sam cursed under his breath, looking over his shoulder to see a pair of icy blue eyes glaring viciously at the two. "Really," Alex snapped, "Thanks. Because I haven't already proven myself time and time again, right?" She scowled. "See if I help you two when you decide to faff around and get yourself stuck in some kind of situation."

"Alex," Sam protested, but Dean had already pulled onto the opposite side of the street and she was quickly climbing out, slamming the door furiously behind her. "Damn it, Dean."

"Hey, don't go pointing fingers at me," he muttered, climbing out and leaving Sam to follow suit. By the time they'd reached the front door, Alex was already nearly done picking the lock, her face an emotionless mask as she did so. Sam shoved a stake into Dean's hands as she got the door open. Without a word to either of them, she entered the house as silent as ever.

"See?" Dean muttered as they passed the couch, still covered in plastic. "Plastic."

"Shut it, Winchester, before you wake the residents," Alex said icily, shooting him a look that often scared most of what she hunted. But he merely ignored it, heading into the living room. She kept close to Sam despite the urge to smack him around a few times, and she peered around the hall as they walked through, noting all of the ornaments and snow globes. They made their way into the kitchen, where there were multiple plates of cookies and cakes. "Here," he muttered, nodding at a lock on a door that he kept his flashlight on. "Dean!" he called softly.

Ignoring the fact that Sam wanted to wait for his brother, Alex picked the lock with just as much ease as she'd picked the first one and ducked into it, making her way down a flight of stairs and into the basement. Dean pointed his flashlight around after joining her, and both grimaced at the sight of blood-soaked bones in a large bowl.

"Ugh," Alex moaned under her breath, covering her nose and gagging. "Yuck. Smells more like that haunted butchery I looked into back home." She examined a blood stain on a wall.

"Hey, check this out," Sam muttered, discovering a leather bag almost as slicked with blood as the bones. He made a disgusted face, then moved on to another bag that he found hanging from the wall. Curious, he took a stake and poked it...then jumped back with a yelp when someone flailed inside of it, shouting desperately. An instant later, Sam whirled around to come face to face with Madge, who simply smiled and grabbed him around the throat, lifting him off the ground.

Dean whirled around, Alex hot on his heels as he shouted Sam's name. Glowering furiously as Madge pushed Sam up against a wall, holding him there despite the fact that he was prying at her fingers, Dean darted over, ready to stake Madge. Despite his attempt, however, Mr. Carrigan suddenly appeared, grabbing his arm and twisting it sharply behind him, slamming his head against a wall so that the hunter went down in a heap.

Wary, her gaze flicking from Mr. Carrigan to Sam to Madge, Alex snatched up the stake that Dean had been attacking with. "Gosh," Madge sighed, a fake pout on her face as she frowned, "I wish you kids hadn't come down here."

Alex was momentarily distracted when Sam's flashlight flashed across their faces, revealing monster-like appearances that returned to normal when the light wasn't there. Huffing, Madge gave a particularly hard shove to knock out Sam as well. "Lovely, just lovely," the skinwalker muttered furiously, "I wasn't joking when I said I'd leave ya guys if we got into a nasty situation, but this soon?" She glanced towards the stairs.

That glance was all they needed. In a flash, Alex was on the ground, Madge atop her with a hand at her throat and a vicious smirk on her face. "Now, now," she chimed softly, "I don't think that's necessary..."

Flailing, Alex attempted to free herself for a brief moment, then gave up, silently glaring up at Madge.

Curse the lack of luck she had!

Madge sighed, dragging the skinwalker to her feet despite Alex's hiss of pain when she jerked so roughly on Alex's wrist that there was a sharp pop. _Dislocated,_ Alex thought with a sigh, ignoring the pain with her hands up in surrender as she was forced upstairs again. Dean and Sam, she noticed, were being dealt with differently. Mr. Carrigan didn't seem to have a single issue throwing both over his shoulder as he ascended the steps.

"Stand right there, honey," Madge said charmingly, though there was a malicious tint to her smile. She dragged three chairs over from a dining set, then nodded for her husband to set the unconscious Winchesters there. Within minutes, they were tied up alongside Alex, who simply scowled irritably, waiting for the two to wake up.

Madge and her husband left the room for a little bit after setting up a series of bowls and a knife on the dining table, and Alex found herself sitting there alone with them. Tilting her head back with a sigh of relief, she carefully tried to swing her head around at Sam, who was closest to her. She managed to just barely knock against his shoulder, but it was enough for hm to stir, and a moment later, both were awake again.

"Dean?" Sam demanded, trying to peer over his shoulder. "You okay?"

"Fine," Dean grunted, flexing his hands in an attempt to test the ropes. "Miss Pouty over here must be happy. Got what we supposedly deserved."

Alex pretended not to hear that, desperately wanted to swing her leg around and kick him where it hurt. The Carrigans chose then to come back into the kitchen, now dressed in colorful Christmas-themed sweaters that made Alex want to gag at their sense of style. Perhaps she could change her occupation to teaching the latest fashions to the elderly...

"Ooh," Madge crooned, "And here we thought you two lazybones were going to sleep straight through all the fun stuff and leave the missy here to watch."

Dean gave a sarcastic snort, smirking. "And miss all this? Nah, we're party people."

"You're so dead, Winchester," Alex spat under her breath as Mr. Carrigan commented on them being hunters and smoked his pipe.

"Shut it," Dean growled back before saying aloud, "And you're pagan gods. So. Why don't we just call it even and go our separate ways, eh? What do you say?"

Yep. Alex wanted to kick him for his stupidity. Mr. Carrigan threw his head back and laughed. "What, so you can bring more of you and kill us? I don't think so."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you went snacking on humans," Sam said coldly, glaring with as much irritation as Alex felt at the moments towards just about everything.

Madge sighed. "Oh, why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year. That's a fact." Humming under her breath, she placed a napkin on Dean's lap as she glanced at Mr. Carrigan. "Now what do we take? What...two? Three?" She did the same for Sam, placing one on his lap. Alex she regarded thoughtfully before finally doing the same.

"Hunters here make six," Mr. Carrigan said smugly. "That's not so bad, is it?"

"Well, you say it like that..." Dean muttered. "Guess you guys are the Cunninghams..."

Mr. Carrigan narrowed his eyes. "You, mister, better show us a little respect."

"Or what," Sam muttered.

"You're going to eat us?" Alex finished sarcastically.

"Oh, that's a lovely idea, but not so fast," Madge said with a bright, beaming smile. "There's rituals to be followed first, and we're just sticklers for ritual, aren't we dear?" Mr. Carrigan nodded his agreement to that statement and Alex stuck her tongue out in disgust. Without a hint of that, Madge popped the girl's chin sharply so that she bit it, making Alex yelp and glare at her. "And you know what kicks everything off?"

"Let me guess...meadow sweet," Dean gritted out, glancing over to see what had been done to Alex. But he couldn't see at the position he'd been put at and glowered irritably at the fact. "Oh, but you're all out of wreaths. Guess we'll have to just cancel the sacrifice, huh?"

Madge pouted. "Oh, don't be so gloomy. There," she added as she put wreaths around the Winchester brothers' necks. There. Oh, don't they just look darling?"

Mr. Carrigan smacked his lips, grinning. "Good enough to eat. Alright. Step number two."

Alex glanced back, nervous. Why the hell wasn't a wreath being put on her neck, too? That answer was given when Madge simply twirled her chair so that she was facing the Winchesters and drug slightly away. "Don't want to stain the dessert," she purred.

Mr. Carrigan nodded his agreement to that. "Nope." Alex watched with wide eyes as he grabbed a knife and bowl from the table and walked around Dean to Sam. Immediately, as he held the bowl under Sam's arm in preparation to cut him with the knife, Dean tried to wrench himself around. "Sam?! Sammy?!"

Sam clenched his jaw, eyes flashing with pain when Mr. Carrigan sliced into Sam's arm, collecting the blood that dripped in a bowl. Finally, he couldn't hold back all sound and let out a gasp of pain.

Dean's gaze darkened furiously. "Leave him alone, you son of a bitch," he snarled, and Alex tied to kick at Mr. Carrigan as he passed her with the bowl and knife to hand it over to his wife.

"Hear how they talk to us?" Mr. Carrigan sighed, "To gods? Listen, pal." He turned his gaze onto Dean, no smile existing now. "Back in the day? We were worshipped by millions." When Dean snarled something about changing times, he answered with a huff. "Tell me about it. All of a sudden, this Jesus character is the new hot thing in town. Our alters are being burned down and we're being hunted down like common monsters."

Madge scowled. "But did we say a peep? No, we didn't." She held the bowl as Mr. Carrigan added something to the blood within it, then smiled as he picked up a tool. "Two millennium. We kept a low profile; we got jobs, a mortgage. What was that word dear?"

"We assimilated."

"Yes, we assimilated," Madge repeated. "Why, we play bridge on Tuesday and Fridays. We're just like everybody else." Alex bit back a snarl at that comment, her eyes flashing, and Madge shot her a look. "Oh, hush, little skinwalker. You'll be able to join in soon." She turned to Dean, holding the knife in her hand. "This might pinch a bit, dear." She leaned closer, then sliced down his arm in the same way Mr. Carrigan had done to Sam. Dean yelped in pain, cursing violently underneath his breath.

"Oh," Madge gasped, "My goodness me! Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar. Do you know what I say when I feel like saying such things?" She leaned close until he met her gaze. "Fudge."

Dean gritted out something that Alex couldn't figure out, but Mr. Carrigan began to speak again anyhow. "You boys have no idea how lucky you are." He returned to standing in front of Sam, a tool held in his hand. "There was a time when kids came from miles around, just to be sitting where you are."

Alex's face went white as she realized just how panicked Sam was growing. "What do you think you're doing with those?" he demanded as Mr. Carrigan smiled.

Dean scowled. "You fudging touch me again, bitch, I dare you."

Madge frowned. "Not quite enough..." She sliced Dean's other arm, and the man groaned in pain while her husband grabbed Sam's hand, situating the tool just right before setting to work on pulling the nail from Sam's index finger, and Sam cried out. Where Alex usually would have made comments about them being men, she bit back a whimper. There was just a point, she decided, where putting on a brave front didn't matter anymore.

Mr. Carrigan added the nail to the bowl. "Oh, we got a winner!" he said cheerfully, then counted off on his fingers as to what they'd collected. "Fingernail, blood..." He suddenly laughed. "Oh, we forgot the tooth!"

Panting for breath, Dean muttered, "Merry Christmas, Sammy!"

"Shut up," the younger of the brothers gasped back.

Alex shook her head, trying to kick out again desperately as Mr. Carrigan picked up pliers and grabbed Dean's chin. "Open wide and say "ah"." Dean looked like he wanted to say a few other choice words, and Alex screwed her eyes shut. There went "sexy guy's" looks!

But suddenly, the doorbell rang.

Never before had Dean been so happy to hear a doorbell ring. With the pliers in his mouth, he hurried to say, "Somebody wanna get that? You should get that. Bad neighborly manners to leave the doorbell ringing."

The two gods exchanged a wary look before Mr. Carrigan sighed. "Take care of the door, I'll join you in a moment."

Alex went wide-eyed as Mr. Carrigan walked over to where she was still tied up, grabbing the chair she was in. "Hey," she protested, thrashing in the chair against the ropes. She tested them desperately, letting her blade ripple into existance, but it was useless; the angle of the ropes against her wrist didn't allow for it to cut through. Admittedly terrified, Alex was dragged around a corner - and placed near a stove with searing hot heat that blasted from it. "What is this," she gasped, "Hansel and Gretel?!"

Distantly, they heard the sounds of Madge greeting a friendly neighbor that requested they go caroling with her, but Alex didn't bother to listen for details. She was too busy struggling to escape the heat that blasted over her. Mr. Carrigan patted her head with a fake cheerful smile. "Now, now. Won't be too long, wait here." He left, and Alex decided moments later that she had mere minutes before she was pushed into an oven like the witch in the fairy tale. Trying to ignore the blistering heat, she squirmed, panting for breath - until Dean suddenly came running into view, passing by the secondary kitchen. Alex gave a desperate call, and he backtracked, staring at her with surprise.

"The hell are you doing there?" he muttered darting over to set to work on the knots of the rope that tied her down. There was a loud crash, and he glanced up, yelling, "Sammy?"

"Still good here," Sam called back, much to Alex's relief. She hadn't been serious when she'd spoken in the car, she decided with relief. She'd even apologize at this point. With Dean's help, she was soon reeling away from the large oven, shuddering when cool air met her face once again. "Thanks," she told him, then darted over when Sam yelped, intending to help him keep the door shut. Dean joined them. "What do we do?" Alex demanded as one of the Carrigans slammed into the door. "The stakes were left where we dropped them."

Sam glanced at the Christmas tree nearby. "I think we have our evergreen...Alex, can you keep the door?"

"Got it," she said firmly, smiling faintly as it was slammed into again. "At least I think I do."

Sam and Dean waited until another slam was over before darting over to the tree, shoving it over and setting to work on breaking branches off of it, moving as swiftly as they could. Alex narrowed her eyes suspiciously when the slamming stopped. Just as suddenly, she was slammed into the ground by a practically snarling Madge, who knelt over her with a twisted expression. "I loved that tree."

Dean and Sam raised their stakes, gazes flicking from Madge to Mr. Carrigan, who proceeded to launch himself at Dean, landing a solid blow on his jaw. Dean grunted as he was slammed down, Mr. Carrigan delivering several harsh blows to his face. Madge transferred her grip to Alex's throat, and Alex wheezed as she tried to pry her hand off. "Sam," she gasped, desperately waving her hand for a stake. Sam tossed her it and she somehow managed to catch it, reaching up and plunging it into Madge's back. Madge screamed, and distracted, Mr. Carrigan jerked around. "Madge!"

Dean took his chance and shoved him off, quickly using his own stake to kill the other pagan god. Within a matter of moments, the Carrigans lay there dead, both lying beside each other. All three panting for air, Alex sounding louder due to a wheeze that came along with nearly being strangled, they exchanged looks. "Merry Christmas," Sam managed to get out past a near crazed grin on his face.

Dean just shook his head and scrubbed a hand down his face. "Yeah, Sammy," he muttered. "Merry Christmas. Just what we wanted to celebrate."

Alex simply gave a tired wave. "To bloody hell with all of it. Let's go get drinks. My treat. Promise." Dean gave her a suspicious look and she rolled her eyes. "Not lying, Winchester. Drinks. On me. Merry bloody Christmas."

An ornament continued to spin on the broken branches of a destroyed Christmas tree.

* * *

 _Another quick chapter...:D_


	5. Malleus Maleficarum

**|January 31st, 2008|**

Sam peered carefully into the sink he was studying, a slight look of amusement on his face as he glanced over his shoulder at where Alex lay on the carpet of the house, once again dressed up in her police dog vest. The man they were talking to, Paul, kept glancing uneasily at her, and Dean feelt himself getting agitated. What, was it weird for this kind of thing to happen and someone to bring in a drug dog? Ignoring the look on Paul's face, he asked a question, receiving an upset answer. "She was so scared. I couldn't help; I couldn't do anything to stop it. I already talked to those other policemen and I've talked to the medical examiner, but nobody can explain it."

"Well that's why they brought us in, Mr. Dutton," Dean said, forcing his irritation out of his voice. He nodded towards Alex, who had suddenly stood, growling under her breath as she pushed past Sam, her nose going into overtime. "Dogs can smell just about anything. Though she might be able to find something we can't."

"And your partner?" Paul questioned, glancing towards Sam. "The CDC, that's disease control, right? Why's here? Do you think it was some kind of virus or something?"

"We're not ruling out anything yet. Mr. Dutton, did Janet have any...enemies?" Dean asked, well aware of the fact that Sam had nudged the bathroom door shut, trapping himself and Alex in there...and the thought was slightly annoying. Once again, Dean found himself momentarily distracted, saved only by the man's confusion. "Anyone that might have a reason to hurt her?"

Paul narrowed his eyes. "Wait, what are you saying? That somebody poisoned her?"

"I'm just saying we have to cover every base here," Dean said defensively, frowning.

"Well, I mean, what kind of poison? Something the dog can smell? You think a person could have done this?" Dean scowled, muttering something under his breath, and Paul shook his head. "No, no, there's just no one that could've-"

He was interrupted by Sam stepping out of the bathroom, holding the door open for a very smug Alex, who trotted out with something lightly grasped in her jaws. Sam muttered something to her, trying to grab it, but she twisted her head away, giving Dean a piercing glare. Time to go.

"Thank you very much," Dean told Paul with a fake smile. "I think my CDC friend and I have everything we need. "We'll get out of your way now." He whistled and instinctively, Alex came trotting, ignoring his outstretched and hidden hand. She wasn't giving up what was in her jaws just yet. Sam gave Paul a faint yet friendly smile and quickly, the trio left.

"That dude seem a little evasive to you?" Dean questioned as they made their way out of the house and towards the Impala, which was dappled with rainwater. Alex bounded ahead of the two, glaring at Sam until he opened the door.

"I don't know," Sam said with a shrug, closing the door behind Alex. He climbed into the passenger seat, climbing in. "Alex and I were under a sink."

"We found this," Alex said, back in her naked human self, shoving what she'd been holding in her jaws at Dean the second he got in the car. Dean dangled the hex bag from his fingers, then opened it, peering inside. Alex wrinkled her nose, smelling the familiar scent of death coming from the bag. "Definitely a hex bag."

Dean made an expression of disgust, practically shoving the bag into his brother's hands, then shot the house they'd been in moments before a look of annoyance. "Yeah," Sam murmured, peering in the hex bag. "Bird bones. Rabbit's teeth. A cloth that looks like it was probably cut from something Janet Dutton owned."

"So we're thinking witch," Dean said firmly. Alex nodded her agreement as she shuffled in the backseat for her clothes, glancing up every few seconds to make sure a certain somebody wasn't trying to catch a glimpse.

"And not just some new age wicked water douser either," Sam commented. "This is old world black magic, Dean."

Dean turned to face his brother, pretending not to notice Alex in the backseat as she squirmed into a pair of jeans. "I hate witches," he muttered, "They're always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere. It's creepy, down right unsanitary."

"As you've said multiple times, Winchester," Alex huffed, jerking a shirt over head and freeing her hair. She shook it out, shoving her hands through it to smooth it down. "We're not deaf, you know." She twisted her head around to examine a new scar she'd earned on her shoulder from the claws of a werewolf that had been pretty damn determined to rip her heart out. "But someone had it out for her it seems like."

"Someone who snuck into that house and planted the bag," Dean added. "So...what? We looking for some more witches in cabins in the middle of nowhere? Or are we looking for someone else?"

"How stupid are you?" Alex muttered, glancing at Sam. "We'll have to look into this. Could have been anyone with a grudge against her. It could have been a neighbor or a coworker, a man or a woman..."

"This wasn't random," Sam agreed, "Someone in janet Dutton's life had an ugly axe to grin. We find the motive-"

"Then we find the murderer," Dean interrupted. Sam nodded his agreement, and Dean started the Impala, turning on the headlights and setting the windshield wipers to work. They easily swiped the rain away from the glass, and Alex simply gave a dramatic sigh and threw herself down comfortably in the backseat.

"Hey," Sam said defensively. "You're the on who wanted to go all dog on us today."

"Because I find things faster that way," Alex retorted, glowering at him. "I want it later, though, got it? Front seat is _mine_."

"How about," Dean retorted, ignoring the look that appeared on her face at his following words, "Driver chooses who sits up front, because I don't feel like having to deal with the smell of wet dog up here."

The car swerved as she gave him a fairly painful swat to the back of the head.

* * *

Alex's eyes snapped open, and she desperately reached out to clutch the nearest thing...which just so happened to be someone's arm. Dean was awake in an instant, reaching for the gun he had hidden, though stopped when he realized it was merely a panicked and wide-eyed skinwalker. "The hell?" he said groggily, scrubbing at his face as he ripped free of her, accidentally nearly smacking Sam in the face and nearly sending him after his gun. "Alex, seriously."

She ignored him, her blue eyes searching the darkness, her nose working furiously. "Something's wrong," she breathed, pressing her face against the glass of the Impala's window. The trio had decided to camp out near Paul's place in the Impala under Dean's suggestion, deciding it would be easier to make sure nothing happened. "Open the- _if you don't want to lose your head, open the God damn window, Winchester._ "

Dean, deciding that her tone of voice was serious, scrambled to do that, clumsy in his sleepy state. The second the fresh air hit her, Alex reached around and shook his shoulder with a firm grip. "Dean, we need to move. I smell rotten food and witch."

"Right," Dean yawned, hurrying to start the Impala. Sam, wide awake now, craned his head to the side, trying to pop his neck. "I take it we're going after Mr. Dutton then."

"Reeks of him, too," she confirmed, her knuckles white as she grasped his seat when the car lurched forward. A few twisted turns later, the hunters came across the sight of Paul falling out of his car and onto pavement, trying to drag in air but unable to. Alex lunged forward to try and help him, Dean close behind. "Sam, the scent's coming from the car!"

"On it," Sam said in response quickly, darting over to the car. He set to work on searching the dashboard, under and nearly attempting to break into it as he did so. When Paul seemed to give up on dragging in air, Alex whimpered and Dean gave a cry of Sam's name in desperation. "Got it!" Sam gasped, removing the hex bag from the car. Alex and Dean hauled Paul up, both watching intently as Sam dug in his pockets for a lighter. He hurried to light the hex bag, which exploded into blue and green flames as he dropped it to the ground.

A moment later, Paul wheezed for air, able to breathe again. Leaning heavily on both Dean and Alex, he gasped, "What the hell is happening to me!?"

"Someone murdered your wife and now they're trying to kill you," Dean said with a bluntness that made Sam grimace. "That's what's happening to you." Paul shook his head desperately, but Dean cut him off. "f we hadn't been following you, you'd be a doornail right now. Now. Who wants you dead?"

Paul flushed, looking uneasy. "I...uh...th-there's a woman. An affair - a mistake. She was un-balanced, she was blackmailing me, and I put an end to it a week ago."

"What's her name?" Sam demanded.

"What could she have to do with any of this?!" Paul cried in exasperation, only for Alex to tightly fist her hand in his shirt, hauling him up much to his surprise. Forcing him to meet hard blue eyes, she growled low in her throat and demanded, "What the hell is. Her. _Name_."

* * *

That night found Dean picking a lock with his brother close behind him, looking around warily. Both had their guns out and ready. When Dean finally got the door open, they entered the room and found a woman lifeless on a table, covered in blood, her eyes staring blankly at a wall in front of her.

"That's a curveball," Dean commented, taking in the dead woman's body.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, approaching the woman who had once been Amanda. Dean lifted her right arm with the barrel of his gun, then grimaced. Sam peered at what he was looking at. Three gashes on each wrist proved she'd bled to death. Sam tucked his gun away, then studied the scattered remnants of the alter she'd been using, grimacing at the smell of burnt and rotten food. "Good thing Alex decided to stay back in the room. Looks like she was working some heavyweight evil here."

"Yup," Dean agreed, turning around...and then stopping with wide-eyes, his heart nearly stopping in his chest in shock. "Oh, God!" he cried, backing up a few steps with a look of utter disgust. "Freakin' witches! Seriously man, come on!" He glared irritably at the rabbit's body, which hung limply from a rope connected to the ceiling.

"Guess we know where she got the rabbit's teeth from," Sam commented, seemingly not bothered by the rabbit though he did send it a funny look.

"Paul sure knows how to pick 'em, huh?" Dean said sarcastically, studying the dead rabbit with a frown. "And why does the rabbit always get screwed in the deal? The poor little guy."

Sam gave his brother a look of amusement. His brother cared more for the rabbit then the dead woman mere feet away. "What I don't get, though, is why do this if she was so bent on revenge?"

Dean raised a hand, ticking off fingers as he said names. "She got Janet Dutton, nearly finished off Paul, and then deciding to cap herself and make it a spurned lovers hat-trick. I mean, this doesn't exactly look like the TV room of a bright and stable person..."

"No," Sam murmured, beginning to look under the glass table that the dead Amanda lay across. "But then there's this..." He reached around for a moment, then pulled out something. He let it dangle from his fingers for a moment, then tossed it to Dean. Dean caught the hex bag, then made a sound of disgust, letting it fall from his fingers. Snickering, Sam made his way over and scooped it back up.

As Sam opened the hex bag and searched through it, Dean pulled his phone out and set to work on dialing a number into it, muttering, "Looks like we got a hit, huh? A little witch on witch violence?" Sam shrugged, and Dean smirked before lifting the phone to his ear. "I'd like to report a dead body. Three o' nine Mayfair Circle. My name? Yeah, sure, my name is-" He hit the button to end the call. "Why the witches ganking each other?"

Sam shook his head. "I'm not sure, but I think we might have a coven on our hands, Dean. Want to give Alex a call? Let her know what we know so far?"

"Fine," Dean muttered after a moment, giving a long, drawn out sigh. He dialed the skinwalker's number into the phone - and then glared at Sam, who smirked. "Shut it," he said, pointing at his brother firmly as he raised the phone back to his ear. "Alex?"

"Sh!" the skinwalker hissed on the other end of the call. "I'm in a room of people. What!"

"...the hell are you doing in a room of people?" he demanded.

"Janet and Amanda were in the same book club, figured I'd go and investigate."

"Ah, so you've found the coven." Dean muttered. "Good. Keep doing whatever you're doing. Amanda is dead, too, turns out. And there's a dead rabbit hanging around. Craving some bunny?"

"Ha, ha," she said sarcastically. Scowling, the skinwalker spared a glance over her shoulder at the women, who were bidding farewell to the host's husband. "Look, I gotta go. Thanks for the warning; nice to know I'm up against a coven by myself. Hurry up and do whatever needs to be done, you two." She hung up, then turned to face the witches in the room with a forced smile. "Alright, so what are we doing?"

The woman that had introduced herself as Tammi retrieved a candle holder, setting it on a coffee table that was in front of the couch. She glanced up at Alex. "Join us over here, Alex, You can sit beside Elizabeth."

"Thank you, Tammi," Renee, another of the witches there, told Tammi.

Elizabeth looked exasperated as she settled beside Tammi, her gaze flickering momentarily to Alex. "I just got a message from a neighbor of Amanda's...the police just arrived and brought out her body. We're just going to pretend it didn't happen?!"

"We loved Amanda," Renee added quietly.

"It's true."

"We knew that she was a little...unstable."

"Also true."

"And we have to face it," Renee finished at last. "She probably killed Janet Dutton."

"People just don't spit out their teeth all of a sudden," Tammi murmured in agreement. Alex glanced curiously between them, forcing herself to act as clueless as a newcomer would act. "Janet and Amanda were previous members," Tammi told her, smiling slightly. "They're dead now. As you've probably guessed at this point, we aren't just a regular book club."

"Oh, I noticed," Alex said faintly. _These witches are psychotic! Except maybe the one..._

"We have to stop," Elizabeth said faintly, looking nervously at the others. "We have to stop book club. This has all gone too far."

"Does seem to have gone just a tad bit too far," Alex agreed. "From what I've seen so far, it's almost like you guys are gallivanting around."

"Oh, hush," Tammi told Alex sharply, looking bothered by Alex's way of speaking. Renee got up from where she'd been sitting and moved to gently rest her hands on either side of Elizabeth's face. "Elizabeth, take a deep breath. Calm down. We can't...stop book club."

"But people are dying," Elizabeth whispered.

Renee scoffed, and Alex glared at her with a look of disgust as she began to speak. "Amanda killed herself, yes. And yes, she killed Janet. Aweful, awful business of course, but that's _all_ over now. And think about what book club has gotten us, hm? Your husband's promotion and that trip to Hawaii you won? And me, my home pottery business is _finally_ taking off. And you wanna just stop? Do you truly want to stop?"

Faith in Elizabeth vanished when she slowly shook her head and Renee beamed, clapping her hands together. "Okay, now come on. We don't have much time. Ron comes home from his Fantasy Football in an hour. Elizabeth, prep Alex here for what we'll be doing while we set up."

Elizabeth turned to face Alex, who watched the witches set up out of the corner of her eye. "Um, it's really nothing. Just...read off of this paper with us, and let us do the rest..."

Alex examined the paper Elizabeth slid her, studying it with a crucial eye. "Alright, let's get this bloody thing started, shall we?"

* * *

"Stay in the car, Alex," Dean ordered the next evening as he moved to climb out. When Alex went to protest, he shook his head. "They know who you are. We'll deal with it and tell ya everything you want to know unless those ears of yours can hear through cracked windows...?"

"Crack the bloody windows," Alex grumbled, glaring at him.

After the windows had been cracked, Dean went to join his brother, who'd begun speaking with Elizabeth and was commenting on the _very_ out of season plant growth. "I'm sorry," he said when Dean joined him, "I should have introduced myself first." He reached into his suit jacket and took out one of the many fake badges they owned. "I'm Detective Bachman, this is Detective Turner." Dean flashed his own badge at Elizabeth. "We're following up on the death of Amanda Burns, going around the neighborhood and talking to neighbors at the moment."

Elizabeth blinked, looking startled. "But didn't she - I mean, she killed herself. Right?"

"Maybe," Sam answered with a shrug.

"We heard you were friends with the deceased, right?" Dean questiond. Elizabeth gave a slow nod. "Did you have any idea about her practices?"

When Elizabeth gave them a look of confusion, Sam clarified, "Her house was littered with satanic paraphernalia."

"A regular Black Sabbath," Dean muttered under his breath.

"No, the...but she was an Episcopalian," Elizabeth answered nervously. She swept some dirt off of the leaf of one of the plants she'd been working with, frowning to herself. "I didn't speak with her often."

"Pretty sure she was using the wrong bible," Dean commented.

From where she sat in the car, watching her hunting companions, Alex narrowed her eyes when Renee and Tammi showed up, walking up and stopping behind the Winchesters. Renee spoke up, startling them. "Elizabeth? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Renee," Elizabeth said hastily. Alex listened carefully as they spoke now, her gut telling her not to trust Renee and Tammi. "These are some detectives. They say Amanda was practicing-"

"I'm sorry, Detectives," Renee cut her off, making Alex curl her lip in irritation. "you can tell that Elizabeth is a little upset..."

Dean dealt with this sudden development smoothly. "Of course, Miss...?"

Renee gave him a withering look. " _Mrs_. Renee Van Aleen. Would you like me to spell it out for you, perhaps?" Dean narrowed his eyes at this and Alex found herself cracking up, fighting the urge to burst into loud and wild laughter. "This Amanda business has been rather hard for Liz, just like it's been for all of us."

"Yeah," Tammi agreed, "I mean, you think you know a person..."

After that, the Winchesters were done pretty quickly. Dean snarled choice words about Renee as he climbed into the driver's seat, earning a smirk from the skinwalker in the backseat. "Aw," Alex cooed, drawling in her accent. "Did the little Dean get told off by a witch...?"

"Shut it right now, Alex," he said icily, glaring at her.

Ignoring the semi-argument that had begun, Sam spoke up. "Just like you said before we got here, Alex. The Elizabeth girl doesn't seem too involved just yet, can probably still back out and be alright. The other two aren't...something just isn't right."

"I'd say," Dean muttered as he started the Impala and put his foot on the gas pedal. "But the one's definitely a witch. Did you see that little victory garden of hers, Sammy? Belladonna, wolfs bane, mandrake, not to mention that little flinch she threw when we mentioned the occult..." He shook his head. "Doesn't matter if she's involved or not, she's still one of the ones we're hunting."

"Well she's definitely had a good run lately," Sam agreed grudgingly. "Gone up a few tax brackets, won almost too many raffles... Kinda thing a little black magic always helps with... She doesn't seem all that bad though, Dean."

"But Renee..." Alex shook her head. "Renee and Tammi are the ones I'm concerned about. Elizabeth was willing to stop. Renee and Tammi are too eager to reap the benefits it's gaining them, even if Amanda is dead...but who killed Amanda? Think it was one of them?"

"It appears like that's the best choice we have," Sam said thoughtfully. He leaned back in his seat thoughtfully, resting his head against the passenger side window. Alex watched him out of the corner of her eye as he glanced at Dean. "Think they killed her to keep up appearances?"

"Seems like an appearance kind of crowd to me," Dean said with a shrug. "If they killed the nut-job, should we, uh, thank 'em?" Sam gave him a look and Alex smacked the back of his head, muttering something about him being an idiot, but Dean shook his head. "They're human."

"They're also murderers," Alex murmured in response. She shook her head. "We don't like it either, but..." Quietly, she thought about Elizabeth. The witch didn't seem to be as involved as the others... "Maybe we can save Elizabeth at least..." Falling silent with thought, she peered up at the slowly darkening sky.

"Burn, witch, burn," Dean said darkly, then cursed under his breath as the Impala suddenly faltered, beginning to choke up. "What the hell?"

The Impala rolled to a stop, and Alex was out of the car in an instant, her nose working over time as the headlights flickered on and off over and over again. Following her nose, Alex's icy blue eyes locked on a figure standing in front of them and in their path. A growl thundered from deep in her throat. Dean and Sam were quickly out of the car as well. "Ruby," Sam greeted evenly.

Ruby's gaze flickered over to Dean and Alex, dark eyes flashing. "Sam, you have to listen to me. There's no time."

"For what," Sam demanded, "What are you talking about?"

"You have to get out of town," Ruby insisted, waving towards the open road behind her. "It's important."

"So this is Ruby, huh?"

Both whirled to face Dean as he raised the Colt, aiming it at Ruby and cocking the gun. Beside him, Alex met Ruby's gaze with an icy look as her blade rippled into existence and she readied it for a fight. Without lowering the gun, Dean said, "Never had the pleasure." Sam tried to protest his brother's action, but Dean cocked a grin. "I was hoping you'd show up again."

"Nice to meet you at last," Alex purred, "Good to know we finally get to meet who Sammy mentioned."

"Point that thing somewhere else, Dean Winchester," Ruby growled. "And you, skinwalker, if you don't put that fucking blade away, I'll rip your eyes from your head."

"Piss off, you bloody twat," Alex bit back, eyes flashing furiously.

When nobody moved for an instant, Ruby returned her glare to Dean. "I told you to put that gun away." Dean threw his head back and laughed before smirking and muttering a sneered "right". Ruby returned her gaze to Sam, pleading, "Sam, please. Go. Get in the car and don't look back."

As Sam waved his arms and demanded to know why, Dean sneered, "Hey, hot stuff. We can take care of a few kitchen witches, thanks."

"I'm not talking about witches, you jackass," Ruby spat, whirling on him again. "Witches are whores. I'm talking about who they _serve_."

Alex searched her knowledge for a moment, then lowered her blade warily, nervous. "Demons," she breathed. When Sam and Dean glanced questioningly at her, she explained, "They get their power from demons, remember?"

"Yeah," Ruby said, rolling her eyes. "And there's one here."

"Oh, what," Dean taunted, waving at her with the hand that held the Colt, "You mean besides you?"

"Sam," Ruby spoke to him again, ignoring the pissed off elder Winchester. "It knows you're in town. It's gonna come after _you_ and it's way more than you can handle." She shoved a hand through her hair with frustration when Dean snorted and Alex growled. "Put a leash on the skinwalker and your brother, Sam. If you want to keep him."

"Dean, just chill out," Sam tried to say firmly, but Alex interrupted him, her canines sharpening as she curled her lips back and growled, "Sam, she's a demon. Working with demons never ends well. Trust me."

"And I'm not chilling out," Dean snapped. "She's messing with your head! God knows why, but that's who they are! And just what the hell do you know about working with demons, Alex?" he added, glancing at her with a frown.

"Nothing," Alex chimed, flushing slightly.

"I want answers later," Dean warned her.

"I'm telling you the truth," Ruby said sharply, crossing her arms and leaning on one leg, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, but why are you a part of this conversation?"

"Oh, I don't know," Dean shot back sarcastically, grip on the Colt tightening. "Maybe because he's my brother, you black eyed skank!"

"Right," Ruby murmured smugly. "You care about your brother so much, right? That's why you're checking out in a few months, leaving him all alone?" Dean's eyes took on a dangerous look and even Sam gave Ruby a frown at this comment. "At least let me try and save him since you won't be here to do it anymore."

Dean snapped, and that was putting what he felt lightly. He fired the Colt at her, but as he did, Sam pushed at Dean's arm. Dean glowered at him and Alex whipped her head around to growl again before looking back to discover that where Ruby had been staying was empty.

Giving Sam a look, Dean shook his head and headed back to the Impala. Alex was only a few steps behind, looking fairly annoyed by what had just happened. "Damn it, Sam."

* * *

The second he was in the hotel room, Dean muttered to his brother, "What the hell were you thinking?"

"What?!" Sam threw his hands up in his exasperation. "What the hell was _I_ thinking?"

"Boys," Alex drawled, kicking the door shut behind her with a sharp slam that showed what she thought on the matter. "Wait until the neighbors can't hear us anymore, will you?" She frowned at the furious glower Dean shot her, then hastily added, "She _is_ a demon though, Sam. We shouldn't faff around with her. Demons want us dead, we want demons dead. That's how being a hunter works."

"Oh, that's funny; I remember that demon chick in Ohio...Casey? You didn't want her dead, Dean," Sam said, glaring at Alex. Alex threw her hands in the air as she made her way to where she'd hidden food from them, using her nose to find the exact location. She wanted food, not arguing men.

"Yeah, well she wasn't stringing me along like a fish on a hook," Dean retorted.

"No one's stringing me along!" Sam shook his head, impatiently shoving a hand through his hair before pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, I know it's dangerous, that she's dangerous, but like it or not, Dean, she's useful." Dean shook his head and snapped a sharply said "no". "Well then, what do we kill her with? The gun she fixed for us." The eldest Winchester shrugged. "Dean, if she wants us dead, all she has to do is stop saving our lives."

Dean turned away, shaking his head as he eyed Alex, especially when she pulled out a beer, opening it and tilting her head back to chug it without hesitation. Wasn't sounding like a bad idea at this point... As Sam launched into words about "war", he turned back to face him. "Are you feeling okay?"

Sam sighed, rolling his eyes. "Why are you always asking me that?"

"We're worried for your sanity," Alex muttered sarcastically. Dean shot her a look. "What? I know I am. He's taking advice from demons. Also, you seem to be less worried about offing people, even in the small amount of bloody time I've been here."

Sam scowled. "So what? What's gotten into me then?"

"Nothing," Dean replied, dropping down onto the foot of the bed he'd claimed and frowning slightly as he rubbed his stomach with an uncomfortable look. "But it's just what you're supposed to do. Okay? We're supposed to drive in the freakin' car and freakin' argue about this stuff. You know, you go on about the sanctity of life and that crap."

"Wait, so...let me get this straight," Sam said bluntly. "You're mad because I'm starting to agree with you two?"

Alex set the empty beer bottle aside, licking her lips. "Who says we're mad, Sam?" she muttered, pulling out a cookie. She took a bite out of it, watching Dean with a look on her face that made Sam feel a moment of worry for his brother. What was she doing?

"I'm worried," Dean corrected, pursing his lips into a line. "You're not acting like yourself, Sammy, and it worries me."

"Yeah," Sam snapped angrily, "You're right, I'm not. I don't have a choice. Look, Dean, you're leaving. Right? And I - and Alex - gotta stay here in this word. Without you. So the way I see it, if I'm gonna make it, if I'm gonna fight this war after you're gone...then I gotta change."

"Change into what?" Dean, who'd begun to look increasingly uncomfortable during his brother's words, fisted his hand over his stomach, leaning slightly forward.

"Dean?" Alex said softly, concerned. She abandoned her cookie, now slowly approaching, not wanting to earn the fury of one of the Winchester brothers at the moment.

"Into you," Sam answered, "I gotta be more like you."

Dean just shook his head, then swore violently as he leaned over, clutching his stomach with a pained expression. Alex came closer now, more speedily. "Winchester? Are you okay? What's wrong with you?"

Still clutching his torso, barely able to force out words, he gritted out, "I don't know. Something's wrong - bunch of knives inside of me-" Sam moved to kneel in front of his brother, Alex stepping up to his side. Dean just ducked down further, gasping, "Son of a bitch! The coven. Gotta be the coven!"

Without a word, Sam was up and rushing away into the bathroom. As he opened the cupboards and began desperately searching for what Alex _knew_ was a hex bag, Dean groaned and dropped off the bed, doubling over. The second he spat and the scent of blood rose into her nose, Alex knew there was going to be trouble. Blood overwhelmed every other scent, and she knew without a doubt that there was no chance of her finding that hex bag with her nose. Sam came darting out of the bathroom, automatically pulling his knife out and beginning to tear at the mattresses. In an instant, Alex was helping in her canine form, tearing viciously at them with her teeth.

"I can't find it," Sam breathed, staring at the ruined mattress. Alex whined, then glanced back when Dean toppled over, trying to rasp air in past the blood. Sam shook his head, eyes flashing as he darted over to his bag and dug around in it. A second later, the Colt was in his hand and Sam opened it to make sure there were bullets in it.

As Sam got up and moved towards the door, Alex joined Dean on the floor again, whining softly in concern, and Dean moaned before demanding in a raspy voice. "Sam? What are you doing?" When his brother didn't answer, he tried again. "Sam!"

* * *

Sam didn't hesitate to kick in the door as he stormed into the house, his face an icy mask of fury. The three witches screamed, darting away from the altar and throwing their hands up in surrender as Sam stalked in, the Colt ready for use. "Let him go," he snarled.

Renee's eyes were wide. "Let who go? What are you doing? You're insane, get out!" she cried.

Sam turned his gaze on her. "Look," he gritted out. "If you know me, then you know about this gun." He nodded at the Colt. "You're killing my brother. Now let him go. Get away from the altar." When they hesitated, glancing at each other with confused and wide eyes, he snapped, "Now!"

The trio stepped away with their hands still up, and Sam kept the gun trained on them, refusing to lower it.

* * *

It had been a very long time since Alex felt as helpless as she did. She knelt over Dean, once again clothed after a speedy change of forms, who leaned over a pool of blood that he even still continued to cough up and spit out. Desperate yet uncertain of how to help him, she lightly ran a hand up and down his back, panic rising in her every second that he continued to cough the blood up. _Come on, Sam, what's taking so long!?_

Suddenly, the door burst open, and in came Ruby. Alex's had her blade in her hand in an instant, gaze deadly as she prepared to defend Dean, who rasped around the pain, "You wanna kill me? Gonna have to get in line, bitch."

Ruby's eyes flashed irritably and she stalked over. With a simple flick of her hand, she had Alex on the other side of the room, and then was hauling Dean up by his collar, shoving him down on the ruined bed. She leaned over him, using her left hand to pry his mouth open as the hunter tried to push her away desperately. Alex went to leap to his aid, but found herself unable to move, and snarled furiously in response. "Let me go," she growled.

Ruby pulled something from he pocket and proceeded to dump some kind of brown liquid into Dean's mouth, ignoring Alex without a spare glance towards her. As Dean choked, trying to spit it back out, Ruby stepped back, panting for breath. Finding herself able to move, Alex scrambled back over, glowering at Ruby, who glared right back. "Stop calling me bitch," the demon snapped.

"What did you do?" Alex demanded.

Ruby simply gave a secretive smirk.

* * *

Still aiming the Colt at the three witches before him, Sam snapped, "Go." Elizabeth, Renee, and Tammi moved away and in front of the fireplace that stood proudly in the living room they'd been using, their hands above their heads.

"We weren't hurting anyone," Elizabeth said desperately, looking terrified as she searched Sam's hard face.

"Please," Renee whispered, "We don't even know your brother!"

"Stop the spell, or die," Sam said firmly, "Five seconds." He cocked the gun and pointed it at them again, his eyes flashing. "Four."

"No, please!" Renee gasped, "Please don't kill us!"

"We were just getting Renee a lower mortgage rate!" Elizabeth cried hysterically, terrified. She pressed against the woman she'd mentioned, fear making her quiver. Sam's expression shifted to one of confusion, but he continued to hold the gun steady.

* * *

"Next time you point that gun at me, I'm not gonna just disappear. Understand?" As she spoke, Ruby tossed a shotgun to Dean, who caught it from where he was sitting at the foot of the bed, letting Alex struggle to check his scent past the smell of blood. He'd swiped the blood and whatever liquid Ruby had forced down his face off.

Dean made a face of disgust. "What was that stuff? God, it was ass. It tasted like ass."

Alex paused, arching an eyebrow at him. "How the bloody hell do you know what that tastes like, Winchester?" Dean shot her a dark look, pushing her off the bed.

"It's called witchcraft, short bus." Ruby turned around, hair swirling around her head as she walked out, closing the door behind her. Dean blinked from where he sat on the bed, looking slightly offended as Alex kicked him, hard, from the floor.

"You're the short bus...short bus," he muttered.

* * *

"Okay, maybe it's not you-" Sam said, pointing the gun at Elizabeth. "Or you." The gun turned on Renee this time, and then finally landed on Tammi, who gave a strangled sob. "Maybe it's you."

"I-I don't even know what you're talking about!" she cried. "What are you even talking about?"

"I mean, all of you, everyone in your little coven, you've all had runs of good fortune," Sam said slowly, watching Tammi carefully. " _Newsworthy_ good fortune. Except for you, Tammi. Now tell me. Why is that? You didn't want anything for yourself? Or is it because you're already getting what you wanted."

"I can't...I-I'm not...I-I-I don't..." Tammi suddenly sighed, dropping her hands. Her look went from a terrified expression to one of calmness, and as she blinked, her eyes became a pitch black. Elizabeth and Renee gasped in shock and even more fear, cringing away from her. "Nice dick work, Magnum," she said smugly.

"Let. My brother. Go," Sam gritted out, entire form tensing as she blinked her eyes into a normal look once more.

"What's wrong?" Tammi taunted. "Couldn't find my hex bag?" She smirked, cocking her head to the side. "Sorry, sweetheart. But your brother's lungs should be on the floor by now. Bet the skinwalker bitch is enjoying _that_ view." Without another word, Sam fired the Colt, but the bullet came to an abrupt halt when Tammi lifted her hand. Losing its momentum, the bullet stopped and dropped to the floor as Elizabeth gasped. Tammi gave a charming smile. "You're in a lot of trouble, Sam." With one wave of her arm, Sam was thrown against a wall, pinned there. Sam grunted, the breath driven from him as hit it.

Shakily, Elizabeth whispered, "T-Tammi? What's wrong with your eyes?"

Tammi turned to look at them, turning her attention on them, and Sam grappled for anything he could use despite still being pinned to the wall. "Tammi, what are you doing?" Renee demanded.

"Renee, shut your painted hole," Tammi retorted, rolling her eyes. Renee stammered, sputtering furiously, and the demon lost her patience. With a simple wave of her right hand, Renee's head snapped to the right, killing her instantly as she crumpled to the ground. Elizabeth gave a soft scream of terror, cowering away.

"Look," Sam choked out, glaring at her, "You got me - let the girl go."

"Wait your turn, young man," Tammi said with a sigh. As Elizabeth whispered terrified sounds under her breath, bringing Tammi's attention back onto her, the demon smiled. "Shhh," she cooed, "Lizzie, it's okay."

"You're not Tammi," Elizabeth breathed.

"No," Tammi said smugly, "But I'm wearing her meat. I had to break the ice with you girls somehow, didn't I?"

"You killed Renee."

"Renee, Amanda... That's what happens to witches who get voted off the island, hon."

Elizabeth swallowed thickly, glancing at Sam, who continued to struggle against the demon with a furious look upon his face. "Who are you?"

"Funny story actually," Tammi laughed, "You remember all those dark demonic forces you prayed to? When you swore your servitude? Just who, exactly, did you think you were praying to, sweetie?" Elizabeth's face paled as she struggled to sputter something out and Tammi only laughed harder. "What did you think it was? Make believe? Positive thinking? The Secret? No, it was me. You sold yourself to me...you pig. All I had to do was bring one good book to Book Club and you ladies lined up to kiss my ass. And don't say you didn't know. You knew every step of the way, and now your ever living souls are mine."

Elizabeth gave a sob, burying her face in her hands.

"Comments?" Tammi said, turning back to Sam with a grin, her dark eyes flashing with amusement. "Questions? Sammy Winchester...wow! Right here in our little town. You know, my friends and I? We've been looking for you."

"Why?" Sam retorted, then answered without waiting for a response, "Oh, right, 'cause I'm supposed to lead some piss poor demon army."

Tammi rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "No, not at all. You're not our Messiah. We don't believe in you. But there's a new leader rising in the west - a _real_ leader. That's the horse to bet on, Sam, the one who's gonna tear this world apart. Thing is...this demon? Doesn't like you very much. Doesn't want the competition." She raised her hand, tilting her head as Sam slid further up the wall with a groan. "Nothing personal, it's a P.R. thing. So...buh-bye."

Sam winced as he was pushed harder into the wall, the paint and plaster cracking around him. Elizabeth watched, frozen with horror as she witnessed what was happening before her. Suddenly, however, a door slammed open. And then Alex was quite literally rolling in, springing lightly to her feet with her black blade in her hand, followed by Dean, who held his shotgun ready. In a flash, however, both were pinned anyways, their weapons falling to the ground.

"Two for one," Tammi purred. She eyed Alex. "For the Winchesters, anyway. I doubt you'd fetch much of a good price..."

Before Tammi could do anything else, Ruby stepped inside, her hands raised in surrender. "I just...came to talk," she said hastily when Tammi glared at her.

"You made it out of the gate," she mused, "Impressive. That was a bitch of a fight, wasn't it?"

"Doors out of Hell only open for so long," Ruby said simply, crossing her arms. When Tammi demanded to know what she wanted, she let a smirk quirk along her lips. "I've been lost without you." She took a step forward. "Take me back. That's why I led the Winchesters here."

The icy anger in Dean's eyes could have turned Sam into a block of ice. Alex snarled under her breath, fighting viciously against the invisible force that pinned her.

"They're for you," Ruby insisted to Tammi. "As a gift."

"Really."

"Let me serve you again," Ruby breathed, "I've wanted it - I've wanted _you_ \- for so long." Dean snorted, muttering under his breath about demon-chick on demon-chick action and earning a snarl from Alex in her frustration.

"You were one of my best," Tammi said wistfully. Ruby stared at the possessed witch for a moment, then suddenly whipped a knife out and hurled it at her, trying to catch her with the blade. But Tammi simply snatched it out of the air, throwing it aside. "But then again," she muttered, "You were always a lying whore."

Ruby's lips pulled back in an animalistic way and she lunged at Tammi. Tammi caught her by the front of her shirt and threw her into the TV. In a flash, Ruby was back on her feet, striking out at her with a neatly aimed kick. When she went to dart past her, however, Tammi sent Ruby back down to the ground, where she landed flat on her back. Grinning now, she picked Ruby up a third time and threw her into a bookcase. She paused to grab a fireplace poker from the stand near the hearth. She paused only briefly to study Elizabeth, who cowered now near Alex and Dean, then walked back towards Ruby with the poker in her hand.

"You're really telling me," Tammi laughed. "That you threw in your chips with _them_?"

Ruby struggled to her feet, but Tammi struck her with the poker, laughing. Elizabeth froze, then took the chance. Alex murmured encouragingly to her as she ran to the alter, dumping out a bunch of pins onto a cloth that held a demonic symbol on it. Tammi didn't notice, too focused on Ruby. "Come on," she snarled, "Get up!" When Ruby didn't respond or get to her feet, Tammi tossed the poker aside and knelt over the other demon, grabbing her by her jacket's collar and pulling her closer. "We've been here before, haven't we? Did she tell you, Sam?"

Ruby spat at her, and Tammi merely laughed. "Pretty mortifying, I guess. She was one of mine. I turned her out a long, _long_ time ago. Ruby here was a witch. That was, of course, when you were human."

Shock crossed the three hunters' faces, and Alex narrowed her eyes as she struggled to free herself from where she was pinned. Tammi released Ruby, letting her remain on the crumpled remains of the bookshelf. "Didn't want your friends to know that all those centuries back you sold yourself to me? Embarrassing I guess. But don't worry, love, no secrets where you're heading. Remember?" Smirking, she then proceeded to chant. "Monyé valack forsa, ulu iri regatt ruac, fieesh nieesh forthsa lé inmist infirum forthsa por un betest a té un fornalles ecclairsee-"

Suddenly, she cut off and the smoke that had been forced out of Ruby's mouth returned to it. She coughed harshly as Elizabeth took up a chant of her own. As Tammi began to cough harder, Dean sudden dropped from the wall, crashing hard on his hands and knees. Sam managed to land on his feet; Alex, however, crumpled with a yelp, her head striking the floor harshly.

Tammi raised a hand to her mouth, coughing pins mixed with blood into it. She blinked at the pins, then sneered, raising a hand and clenching it into a fist.

Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat. Then she crumpled forward onto the alter, dead.

Dean, taking advantage of the distraction, snatched up Ruby's discarded knife. he slunk forward, then managed to stab Tammi in the back, a feral look almost on his face. He drew the knife back and drove it in again, and then a few more times until Tammi gave a final cry, both her body and the demon within dropping to the floor, dead. Dean glanced at Ruby, then moved to assist Sam in dragging the dazed Alex to her feet.

They were heading for the door when Dean paused, glancing at Ruby. Sam followed his gaze, while Alex just stared straight ahead, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Ruby glared at them, her cheeks tinted red as she wiped blood from her mouth. "Go. I'll clean this mess up."

"Come on," Dean muttered, ushering his brother and the skinwalker out. He paused again, however, and Ruby's eyes flickered black as she snarled a sharply said "GO!"

The last glance they got of her was her ripping her knife free of Tammi's body as it smoked in her hand, slicked with blood.

* * *

As Sam splashed his face with water inside, Alex quietly walked beside Dean outside. Her blue eyes were troubled, and he found himself glancing at the skinwalker every few seconds. He couldn't blame her, not this time; he was just as anxious about the situation as she was. Suddenly, the lights flickered. Alex gave a growl as she lifted her head and Dean's gaze became wary as he turned to find Ruby standing in the shadows of the parking lot. Alex followed his gaze and pursed her lips. "So," Dean drawled, "The devil may care after all. Is that what I'm supposed to believe?"

Ruby scoffed. "I don't believe in the devil."

Alex made a face. "What a surprise," she muttered, keeping close to Dean as he walked over to the demon. "Let me get this straight. You were human once, you died, you went to Hell, you became a...?"

"Yeah," Ruby muttered, then turned to leave.

"How long ago?"

Ruby pursed her lips, looking slightly surprised by the question. "Back when the plague was big," she finally murmured.

"So..." Alex's eyes widened fractionally. "Every single demon we've killed...they were all human once?" Ruby gave a curt nod and Dean snorted, muttering something under his breath.

"Most of them have forgotten what it means, or even that they _were_ human," Ruby murmured, "That's what happens when you go to Hell, Dean." She turned her gaze on the startled hunter. "That's what Hell _is_ \- forgetting what you are."

Dean's lips curved into a smug smirk. "Philosophy lesson from a demon. I'll pass. Thanks."

"It's not philosophy. It's not a metaphor. There's a real fire in the pit," Ruby warned, "Agonies you can't even imagine."

"No, I saw Hellraiser." Dean folded his arms, and Alex snickered at his comment. "I get the gist."

Ruby made a sound of annoyed disgust before turning to leave again. She paused, however, and called back, "The answer is yes, by the way." Dean frowned and she explained. "Yes. The same thing will happen to you, Dean Winchester. It might take centuries, but sooner or later...Hell will burn away your humanity. Every Hell-bound soul, every one, turns into something else. It turns you into us. So...yeah. Yeah, you can count on it."

Dean studied her with a suddenly serious look. Alex watched, aware that they had forgotten she was there for the time being and not wanting to disrupt the conversation that was happening. "There's no way of saving me from the Pit, is there?" Ruby hesitated, then shook her head with a sigh. "Then why'd you tell Sam that you could?"

Ruby's lips curved up into a smirk. "So he would talk to me. You Winchesters can be pretty bigoted. I needed something to help him get past the-"

"The demon thing?" Dean's green eyes flashed as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "It's pretty hard to get past. Why are you telling me all of this?" He glanced at Alex; the skinwalker was staring at the ground with a frown on her face, looking thoughtful, as if she'd thought of something. But he knew better. She was listening with great intent.

"I need your help." Dean made a sound of surprise and she grinned, dark eyes flashing as she shoved some light hair from her face. "With Sam. The way you stuck that demon tonight - it was pretty tough. And even though the skinwalker was pretty useless, I suppose she could help, too. Sam's almost there, but not quite. You both need to help me get him ready - for life without you, Dean. To fight this war on his own." That said, she finally turned and started off for the dark, calling over her shoulder, "See you around!"

Dean glanced at Alex, who raked her fingers through her reddish-blonde hair. "What do you think? Why does she want us to win?"

Alex stared at where Ruby had disappeared, the turned her icy blue eyes on him. "I don't know, Winchester," she growled. "But I don't trust her. And you two would do well to not trust her either. If there's anything I've learned...it's don't trust a God damn demon." That said, she patted him on the shoulder. "You okay after earlier? Coughing up blood and stuff...it's not fun."

He glanced at her, surprise crossing his face. She held her hands up defensively, waving towards the building behind them. "Hey, I'm just asking for Sam 'cause I want you to have a damn good bloody answer for him. He's going to ask what took you so long, if what I know about him is correct."

Smirking, Dean threw an arm around her shoulders, earning a death glare from her. "Fine enough to want some pie." He glanced at her with a fierce look. "There had better be some freakin' pie left, Alex."

She blinked innocently. "I left some whip cream. Could be fun to use...care to join me?" Snickering at his shocked expression, she ducked out from his grasp and high-tailed it back into the motel room, slamming the door shut and locking it behind her. Sam, who'd settled comfortably on one of the two beds, glanced up with a sigh and she gave him a grin. "Don't open that door until I'm safe and we should be okay. Kay? Now, I'm going to take this pillow and blanket, make myself a bed in the bloody bathtub, and you're going to let me lock that door before we let Dean inside."

Sam simply watched with wide eyes as she did just that.

* * *

 _Another quick chapter...:D_


	6. Dream a Little Dream of Me

**| Feburary 7th, 2008 |**

Silently, he walked through the house, his gaze flashing warily as he peered around, a flashlight in his hand. A sound filled the air and he froze, turning around to see if something was behind him. But there was nothing, and Bobby Singer grew increasingly worried. He'd come there for a reason. So where was it?

He reached a pair of doors and slowly slid them open, taking a few steps inside afterwards. He pursed his lips as he took in the room, a kitchen. Nothing in there, he realized as he scanned it. Suddenly, however, there was a scream. He whipped around just in time for a woman to launch herself at him, sending both of them to the ground. Bobby swore, struggling to fend her off as she continued to scream. Suddenly, the world around him seemed to flash white...

Humming under her breath, a maid smiled to herself, unlocking a door from the outside with a spcial key before stepping into a room. She paused, however, when she saw the renter of the room on the bed, asleep. "Oh!" she gasped. "I'm sorry."

She turned to walk right back out, but stopped when she retrieved the keys from the door. She glanced back. He still hadn't moved. Slightly worried for the man in the bed, she took a few steps closer. "Sir?" When there was no response, she abandoned the keys and walked over to the bed, gently touching him on the shoulder. "Wake up."

Desperate, the maid gently shook him, trying to wake him up her eyes growing panicked. "Wake up, you hear me? Wake up! Sir, wake up!" She whirled around, terrified. "Help!" she screamed. "I need some help in here!"

People came running.

* * *

"Here you go," the bartender said with a flirty grin, handing over a glass of whisky to her. She flashed him a bright smile, accepting it with ease and a wink before stepping away from the bar, making her way towards a back table. Alex rolled her eyes at the sad sight. Sam was sitting there, hunched over, tilting his glass back and forth. She sighed. He was drunk, too, it appeared.

"I don't know what the hell I'm doing here, Sam," Alex growled, "What am I here for?" She slammed the drink she'd fetched onto the table in front of him, prying the now half-spilled glass from his fingers. "Get a move on, moose. Dean's going to be here any second." Even as she spoke, she heard the door open and despite the smell of sex, alcohol, and drugs that came along with a bar, she recognized Dean's scent. "Speak of the devil," she sighed.

"There you guys are," Dean muttered, brows furrowed as he crossed his arms, gaze flickering between both of them. "What are you doing?"

"Who the bloody hell knows?" Alex muttered, throwing her hands in the air as Sam replied calmly, "Having a drink."

"It's two in the afternoon, Sam. Drinking whiskey?"

"I drink whiskey all the time."

"No, you don't," Alex reminded, propping a hand on her hip with a roll of her eyes...and a glare at a young man that gave her ass an appreciative look from where he sat at the actual bar.

"What's the big deal?" Sam protested. "You get sloppy in bars. You hit on chicks all the time. Alex gets that." He waved tiredly at the man who was currently ignoring her glare in favor of nudging his friend. "Why can't I?"

Dean made a face at the thought of hitting on the one woman in the room: a woman at the age of perhaps forty years old and not exactly a woman of his type. "It does have slim pickings around here," he admitted, leaning against the table and shooting a dark look of his own at the men watching Alex. They backed off in a hurry. "What's going on with you?"

Sam shook his head, not saying anything for a few moments as he twirled the glass in his hands, ignoring the whiskey that spilled onto his already sticky hands. "I tried, Dean," he said finally, mournful.

Alex's gaze softened as she murmured, "To do what, Sam?"

"To save him," Sam mumbled back, waving at Dean. His gaze returned to his glass.

Dean exchanged a look with Alex. The skinwalker seemed unnaturally gentle as she reached out to touch his arm, smiling reassuringly. "I'll get you a drink. A whiskey, double, neat, right?" He nodded, and she gave a faint smile before slipping off. Despite himself, Dean felt his gaze locked on her trim figure for a few beats before he looked at his brother when he mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"I'm serious, Dean," Sam repeated with a huff.

"No, you're drunk," Dean answered bluntly. He rolled his green eyes to the ceiling and beyond, grateful that Alex knew they needed a moment.

Sam took in a shaky breath, and Dean was slightly startled by the tears shimmering in his eyes. "I mean, where you're going...what you're gonna become. I can't stop it." He scoffed, his lips twisting into a dry smile. "I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But, really, the thing is...no one can save you."

Dean snorted. "That's what I've been telling you."

"No," Sam protested. "That's not what I mean. I mean, no one can save you because you don't _want to be saved_. I mean, how can you care so little about yourself, Dean?" Dean listened silently, then scoffed, smirking to himself. "What's wrong with you?" Sam asked.

Dean glanced up to meet Sam's gaze. But before he could take the chance to say anything, Dean's phone went off. As Alex returned, a drink for Dean in her hand, he answered it. "Hello? Yes, this is Mr. Sniderson." A pause, shock crossing his face as Alex exchanged a curious look with Sam. "What? Where?"

Less then a minute later, all three of them were screaming down the road in the Impala.

* * *

Alex surveyed the man that lay in the hospital bed, standing close beside Dean and Sam. "So..." Sam managed to get out, sounding choked up by the sight. "What's the diagnosis?"

The doctor, standing a few feet away on the other side of the bed, shook his head. "We've tested everything we can think to test. He seems perfectly healthy." Dean shook his head. "Mr. Sniderson, you're his emergency contact. Anything we should know? Any illnesses?"

"No," Dean murmured, "He...he never gets sick. I mean, he doesn't even catch colds..."

"Doctor," Sam said hopefully, "Is there anything you can do?"

"Look, I'm sorry," the doctor said with an apologetic look. "But we don't know what's causing it... So we don't know how to treat it. He just...went to sleep and didn't wake up." Dean exchanged a look with Sam as the doctor left, and Alex sank her teeth into her lower lip.

"So this is Bobby Singer?" she said softly, hugging her bare arms. She'd thought it would be warmer inside the building, but it had turned out to be a bit chillier then she'd thought it would be in Pittsburgh despite being February. "The very same Bobby Singer you two were telling me about?"

"Yeah," Dean said gruffly, "But what was he doing in Pittsburgh...?"

* * *

"So, what do you think he was doing here?" Alex said as she followed the Winchesters into the room Bobby had been found in by the maid. Her gaze surveyed the somewhat clean room, taking in the lack of very much of anything. It looked like Bobby had either hidden his possessions or they'd been nicked...

"Unless he's taking an extremely lame vacation...he was working," Dean said firmly, kicking the door shut behind them. He pushed past Alex to peer around the room. "I think. You think there'd be some sort of sign of something, you know?" Sam rolled his eyes, opening a drawer only to discover that it was empty. Alex joined the search with her good nose, but found nothing. "Research, news clippings... Or a frigging pizza box or a beer can. Anything would be nice."

Dean walked away from the dresser he'd been looking in, and Alex trailed over to peer in the closet. Sam was close behind her, and didn't hesitate to push Bobby's clothes aside when she opened the door. They glanced at each other. "How 'bout this?" Sam called. Dean turned to face them, surveying what they'd discovered.

On the wall behind where the clothes had been hanging hung dozens of newspaper clippings, maps, and pictures. The very ones they'd been looking for. There were pictures of roots, mushrooms, and seeds alongside a map where Bobby and written the word "Pittsburgh" in big letters and underlined it. Along with all of that, there were post it notes with multiple addresses and number. There was even a piece of paper about a plant. Dean chuckled under his breath, a crooked grin appearing on his face. "Good old Bobby. Always covering up his tracks."

Alex waved at the mess before them, her face twisted in a confused look as she impatiently shoved some messy reddish-blonde hair from her face. She tugged her tanktop down, glancing at him. "You fools able to make any sense of this bloody nonsense?"

Dean plucked up one of the papers, reading through it. "Silene capensis...which means nothing."

Sam nudged him aside, snatching up a newspaper clipping, reading from it and skimming through. "Dr. Walter Gregg, sixty four, university neurologist."

Alex peeked over his shoulder at this. "Apparently he went to sleep and just didn't wake up," she mused, biting her lip and chewing on it as Dean took the paper from his brother. Dean skimmed over it. "Sounds familiar..."

"Alright," Sam said thoughtfully. "So let's say Bobby was looking into this guy's death. You know, hunting after something-"

"That started hunting him," Dean finished, glancing up from the clip. Sam nodded, and Alex glanced over her shoulder towards the window, her icy eyes lost in thought for the time being. "Alright, stay here. See if you can make any sense of this, would you?" He nodded towards the closet.

"What are you gonna do?" Sam demanded, looking fairly bothered that he was being left to look through Bobby's belongings.

Dean shot them a grin. "I'm going to look into the good old doctor myself," he replied firmly, then gave Alex a look as she moved to follow him. " _You_ are staying here with Sam. Every time you come along, I get screwed over."

Alex pouted. "Come on, I didn't mean to leave you locked out overnight, Dean...that was Sam's fault, I told him to let you in when I was safely hidden...and you can freaking pick locks, why didn't you do that?"

"Because I didn't feel like dealing with Sam pointing a shotgun at my head," Dean grumbled, waving his arms at his brother. "Sam, keep her here, would you? If I need something, I'll call and have you do it."

Alex let a pout appear on her lips. "Jerk," she growled at him. He shrugged, flashing her a grin before disappearing out of the small room. Alex turned her gaze on Sam, who'd watched the interaction with an arched eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing," Sam sighed, turning his attention back on the mess Bobby had left behind. "Come on, let's get to work."

* * *

It was only an hour or two later that Alex heard her phone ringing, a song by Nickleback ringing out loudly. Sam paused in typing furiously on his laptop to glance at her as she checked the caller ID. "Your brother," she told him, then answered it. "Got anything for us, Winchester?"

Dean huffed on the other line, sounding bothered, and Alex gave a smug snicker. "Not really. Apparently this guy, Dr. Gregg? He-" Alex cut him off, telling him to hold on a moment. She put her phone on speaker, waving Sam over, then told the eldest Winchester to continue. "Apparently Dr. Gregg did some sleep studies. Got the name and address of one of the ones he experimented on. You wanna head over there, Alex? I'm gonna go back to the hospital, check on Bobby. I'll send ya the information."

"What about me?" Sam demanded. "Am I not capable of this or something? I want to go do some fun stuff."

Alex's lips quirked up. "You keep looking into the plants Bobby was looking at. We'll meet up at the hospital in two hours. No faffing about, Winchester. You hear me? Could be bad for everyone here."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered, then hung up.

Alex reassuringly patted Sam's shoulder, her icy eyes gleaming. "I'll tell you all about it when I come pick you up to take you to the hospital. I have a car to go steal." She winked, then pocketed her phone, heading for the door. She slid into her leather jacket after grabbing it from the bed, shrugging it on with a smug smirk on her face. As she stepped out of the room, however, she slammed straight into someone, her small frame nearly thrown to the ground. Staggering to capture her balance, she curled her lips back unnaturally in a snarl, glowering irritably at the man she'd run into. "Watch it, you bloody twat."

The man looked just as surprised, if not even more as he stared at her for a few seconds. Then he grinned. "Sorry," he apologized, raking his fingers through his hair. She ignored him, fixing her jacket and glancing back with tinted cheeks at Sam, who'd set aside the laptop with a frown, ready to stand up if he was needed. The man's gaze swept across the skinwalker's figure and he suddenly frowned. "I don't believe we've met before."

Alex took in the man's appearance. Only a few inches taller than her small form unlike Sam's freakish height, alongside thoughtful dark eyes and light golden hair. "Nope," she said drily, "Now get out of the way. I have business elsewhere." Scowling lightly, she tugged her tank top down over her hips, then shoved past him...only for him to stand in her way.

A hand landed on her shoulder, a smirk crossing the man's face. "I don't think so." Without another word, Alex was suddenly hurled backwards, slamming flat on her back. The breath driven out of her, she could only stare up at the ceiling for a brief second as Sam swore and shot to his feet, reaching for his gun. The man's eyes flicked black. "Now, now, Sam, I don't think that's such a good idea..."

Sam ignored him, aiming the gun, and Alex forced herself to her feet, grunting slightly as she snatched her blade from its place. Readying the weapon, she growled under her breath, ignoring the feeling of being unable to breathe. She would _definitely_ have bruises in the morning. _What's a demon doing here_ now _?_

Alex tightened her grip on her strange blade, the symbols along the hilt glowing as the demon drawled, "Looks like I'm missing one, but I'm sure one of the Winchesters and a friend dead is good enough for now. Where one's at, the other's not too far behind..."

Alex exchanged a look with Sam, nodding just barely when he glanced at his gun and then the demon. She understood the plan. The second Sam's gun went off, aimed for the demon's head, she readied her blade. The demon turned its attention on Sam with a mocking laugh, smug as Sam went smashing into a wall with a flick of his hand. The wall cracked and Alex felt a moment of sympathy. What was it with this guy and getting slammed into walls?

She leaped into action, darting forward. With a carefully aimed swing, Alex nailed the demon in the chest with her foot, landing on top of him when he was sent sprawling. Without a moment's hesitation, she plunged her blade into his chest, growling furiously as she twisted the blade as the familiar sight of a dying demon sparked across the man's body. "Beastly prat," she spat, ripping it free of his chest. She glanced back. "You okay over there?"

"Fine," Sam groaned, staggering over with a hand rubbing his head. "What was that about? How'd it know where we were?'

Alex shrugged, rolling up her sleeve to line her weapon up against her arm. She watched as it rippled out of sight, then shoved her sleeve back down, rocking back on her boot-clad heels. "I don't know," she admitted. "We need to get a move on with finding what's wrong with your friend, though. If there's one here now, there can't be more behind. I'll go deal with this guy Dean wants me to check out, you keep looking into what he was messing with. Take care of the body first though. Dean doesn't find out about this bloody bastard, you hear me?"

"On it," Sam agreed, heading back for the bed and his laptop. Suddenly, however, he glanced back. "What's the story in case Dean comes back?" He suddenly grinned. "Just in case."

"I got pissed and threw something," Alex said bluntly, then waved a farewell and ducked out of the room, wary this time. She checked the location and the name on her phone, nodded to herself as she put it in her memory, then shoved her hands in her pockets and continued on as if she hadn't just killed a demon.

* * *

When it came to interrogating men of this age, Alex had long since been a pro. It might have come with the job after doing it for many years, but...this was certainly going to be easy. Smiling with a broad grin on her face, her leather jacket slung over one shoulder, she held up a badge, one of the American ones that Sam and Dean had prepared for her. One that stated that she was a detective for the Pittsburch police department. The guy before her, Jeremy, blinked before opening the door further and stepping aside so she could come in. "Look," he said hastily, eyes wide. "I don't know what the RA said, but, ah, I was growing ferns."

Scoffing, Alex stepped inside, shoving the fake ID into her back pocket. "Take it easy," she hummed, swiping her hair out of her face. "That's not why I'm here." He looked startled and she gave a smug little grin, raising the file in her hands. "I'm here for this."

"Oh, thank God," Jeremy sighed in relief. "Okay. What is it?"

"I want," Alex said, rocking back on her heels, "to talk to you about Dr. Gregg's sleep study." She let her accent sharpen, noticing with a frown that it had faded just barely over the last few months. Not good. It was one of her best helpers when catching a guy to spend the night with.

"He just died, right?" Jeremy muttered, not looking her in the eye. He headed for the kitchen and she trailed after him, not daring to let him out of her sight.

"Yes," she answered, "And you were one of his test subjects? At least, that's what the files say..."

"Yeah," he confirmed, opening the fridge. he took out two beers. He kept one close to himself, but offered the other to her. "Unless you're on duty or something?"

Alex studied the beer can, taking in which kind it was. Finally, she threw her hands in the air. "To bloody hell with it." She snatched the bottle from his hand, opening it with ease as Jeremy reached for the bottle opener. Ignoring his offer for a small clinking of glasses, she tipped her head back and took a long drink, enjoying the taste before continuing with her questions. "Now. Dr Gregg was testing for...Charcot-Wilbrand syndrome? Which means..."

Jeremy flushed, ducking his head. "Um...I, uh, can't dream." Alex arched her brows at him and he sighed, explaining faintly, "I had this bike accident when I was a kid. Banged my head pretty good and I haven't had a dream since. Till the study. You know. Sort of." Alex cocked her head curiously, questioning what he'd been given, and he answered, "It's this yellow tea. It...it smelled _awful_ , tasted even worse."

Alex tucked this information away for later. "What did it do?" she asked, taking another swig of alcohol before setting the bottle on the counter. She still had to drive the stolen car back to pick up Sam; she couldn't get too drunk.

"Just passed right out," Jeremy said with a shrug, simply sipping at his own drink. "An, uh, I had the most vivid super-intense dream. Like a bad acid trip, you know?"

Alex snorted. "Not really, no," she muttered, crossing her arms. What kind of person was this guy?!

"That was it." Jeremy shook his head. "I dropped out of the study right after that. I didn't like it. To tell you the truth...and you'd better not repeat this...it kind of scared me."

Simply falling into a thoughtful silence, Alex nodded. "Alright, thanks for all of that. It'll be very helpful in looking into this case." She gave him a reassuring smile, put her leather jacket back on, then strode confidently from the place the guy called home.

It took only half an hour to pick Sam up and retreat back to the hospital, where they walked into to see Dean sitting by Bobby's head with pursed lips, his chin propped in his hands. Sam entered first, and Dean straightened,craning his head around to look at him. Both shared a look before Sam ducked inside completely, followed by a peeved Alex, who remained silent as Sam questioned softly, "How is he?"

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face, turning back to face Bobby. Files in hand, Sam and Alex stood at the foot of the bed as Dean said gruffly, "No change. What did you two figure out?"

Sam offered him the files in his hands. "Well...considering what you and Alex told me about the doc's experiments...Bobby's wall is starting to make a hell of a lot more sense."

"How?" Dean raised his eyebrows, looking curious.

Alex plucked the file from Dean's hands, shuffling through it. "This bloody thing right here," she said, offering him the picture she pulled out of a plant. The plant looked delicate, with a pretty white flower growing on a piece of it. "Sam figured out what it was. Silene capensis."

"African Dream Root," Sam clarified, rolling his eyes at Dean's lost expression. "It's been used by shaman and medicine men for centuries, Dean."

"Let me guess," the eldest Winchester said bluntly. "They dose up, bust out didjeridus, start kicking around the hackey."

"Uh," Alex muttered, "What the hell did you just say? I don't speak Winchester quite yet, thank you very much."

"And we don't speak British, yet we usually understand what you're saying," Dean retorted.

"If you believe in legends," Sam gritted out, interrupting their small argument. He was quickly growing tired of the bickering they did every five seconds. Even if it was a flirty kind of argument. "It's used for dream walking. I mean, entering another person's dreams. Poking around in their head."

"As we believe in legends," Alex piped up, ignoring the irritated look Sam sent her, "This Dream Root is some serious little bloody thing. Take enough of it and practice enough and you can control _anything_. Bad dreams become good, good becomes bad, etc., etc., etc."

Dean narrowed his eyes as he questioned, "And killing people in their sleep...?" Sam nodded curtly and Dean groaned rubbing his temples.

"So let's say...uh, let's say this doctor was testing this stuff on his patients, Tim Leary-style," Sam said thoughtfully.

Alex sighed. "Again." She waved at herself. "I speak in a way others use. Stop speaking Winchester so I can understand, please." Both ignored her, simply continuing to converse.

"Somebody gets pissed at him, decides to give him a little dream visit, and he goes nighty-night," Dean finished, muttering the words under his breath. He glanced at Bobby, Sam following his gaze to the un-moving man.

"What about Bobby?" Sam said suddenly. "I mean, if the killer came after him, how come he's still alive?"

"Who knows?" Alex sighed, biting her lip hard enough that it bled as she shoved her hand tiredly through her hair, wincing when she pulled on sore muscles and flesh. Bruises were forming just as quickly as they were disappearing from where she'd hit the floor, thrown there by the demon that had attacked them.

* * *

The woman slammed and banged on the door hard enough to rattle it as Bobby struggled to hold it close, panting for breath as he ignored her screaming, looking terrified. Desperate, he looked around himself for something to hold the door, and grabbed an old suitcase, shoving it by the door at his feet to try and help him keep the woman from breaking in. Desperately grasping around the closet for more things to keep the door shut, he grabbed a broom then pressed his back against it, clutching the broom with white knuckles.

"Help me!" he shouted, "Somebody help me!"

There was no answer as the closet he stood in suddenly became a never ending hallway.

"HELP ME!"

* * *

The trio of hunters left the hospital room Bobby was in, Sam and Dean walking with their heads close together as they made their way down the hallway, speaking quietly. When they pulled away, Sam's gaze was troubled and Dean sighed, "So how do we find our homicidal sandman?"

"Could by anyone," Alex said quietly from behind them. She wouldn't lie; she felt excluded on this job. Mind you, she didn't exactly know Bobby like these two obviously did, but...she wasn't used to it. At all. "Anyone who knew the doctor and had access to his bloody dream shrooms would be a good place to begin."

"One of his test subjects or something, maybe?" Sam questioned, glancing over his shoulder at the troubled skinwalker. She was letting her fingers dance up and down her arm despite being covered by her jacket, seeking comfort in the presence of her blade.

"Possible," Dean agreed, "But his research was pretty sketchy from what I gathered. I mean...I dont' know how many subjects he had or who all of them were outside of the one dude."

Sam scoffed, then gave a loud sigh. "Any other case, we'd be calling Bobby and asking him for help right now." Alex gave him a sorrowful look, feeling bad for the two brothers. They obviously liked Bobby in the same way she'd adored the one who had trained her in the way of the hunters. Suddenly, however, an idea popped into her head. Flashing a grin, she darted forward, grabbing Dean's arm and stopping them. "Hey, you guys. You're right."

"What?" Sam sounded bewildered as he and Dean looked at her. Alex snickered at the look they gave her, both wearing the same one though not seeming to realize it.

"Why don't we go talk to him." Alex's icy eyes sparkled, her grip tightening on Dean's arm until he swatted her off.

"I think we might find the conversation a bit one-sided," Dean muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "He's unconscious if you didn't notice, Alex."

"Not if we're using Dream Root." Both paused at this comment, glancing at each other, and she pushed forward. "The Dream Root. We can use it to get inside his head, see what happened and what he knows about it all."

Dean grinned. "Why not? Maybe we can help him out. Figure out how to wake the guy up."

"We have no idea what's crawling around in there," Sam said reasonably, reminding them of just what they did for a living. Dean scoffed, but Sam pressed on. "It could be bad, Dean. He's seen a hell of a lot more than we have, and that's not including Azazel... Besides. There's a problem. We're fresh out of African Dream Root, so unless you know someone who can score some of it..."

"That other chick," Alex said with a twisted expression. "You know, the other British one."

"Bela?" Dean's jaw dropped at the thought. "Guess it could work...you actually suggesting we ask her a favor though?"

Alex scowled, clenching her jaw. "Just shut up and call the bloody witch." Without another word to either of them, she shoved past and stalked towards where the Impala awaited its passengers.

* * *

 _The night was a surprisingly peaceful one as Sam sat on his laptop. Dean and Alex had, with surprising good natures towards each other, left to visit a bar. Somehow, Sam wasn't surprised. Though the claimed to detest each other half the time, Sam doubted they truly meant it. A knock on the door disrrupted his thoughts, however, and he closed the lid of the laptop, setting it aside as he walked over to it. Cautious, he slowly opened it, then opened it completely when he saw who it was. Bela stalked in, wearing a trench coat, green eyes glittering. "Hey, Sam."_

 _Sam closed the door behind her. She stopped in the center of the room, turning around to face him. Annoyed, Sam muttered, "Bela. I didn't think there was a chance in hell you'd show up." He stood across from her, hands on his hips._

 _"Well," Bela said drily, starting towards him, her hands taking hold of the belt of her trench coat. "I'm full of surprise. Though, truthfully...you wanna know why I'm here?" As Bela approached, getting closer and closer, he took a step back, muttering something. In response she smirked, removing her trench coat. He was stunned beyond belief when he realized she wore no clothes, only underwear. "Because of you," she purred._

 _"Uh..." Swallowing thickly and uncertain of what to do with the now nearly nude Bela, he looked to the side. "What are you doing?" He risked a glance when she put her hand on his cheek, eyes trailing on his lips._

 _"I can't stop thinking about you," she purred, fingers dancing up his chest. Leaning in close, she pressed her lips against his. Sam only took a moment to respond, and Bela slowly twined her fingers behind his neck, smiling against him..._

"Sam! Wake up!" Dean grinned from where he was sitting on the motel bed, looking through the file they now owned. Alex sat a few inches from him on the same bed, fighting the giggles that threatened to escape her as she took in his small smile while he slept. The second he was awake, however, he smile vanished, and he sat up, wiping his face with the back of his hand...only to discover he'd drooled on it. Grimacing, he used his other hand, and Dean grinned. "Dude. You were out. Making some serious happy noises...care to share?"

Sam shot him a dark look, and Alex only laughed harder, chiming in, "Come on, Sammy, you can tell us...you having a fun little bang in that head of yours?"

Dean threw his head back and outright laughed at Alex's words. "No," Sam nearly growled, "No. Guys, shut up. It doesn't matter."

Stifling her laughter, Alex couldn't push the smile off of her face. "Well, Winchester here called Bela."

He glanced at them. Trying to shove away his memories of the dream he'd been having, he managed to mutter, "Bela? Yeah? She - What'd she...you know, say? She gonna...help us?"

"Shockingly, no," Dean huffed, "Which puts us back to square one. Alex and I have been trying to decipher the Doctor's notes. Unfortunately, he has worse handwriting than you do. So we're screwed." Sam sighed, still in his chair, glancing at Dean. "You gonna help us out or sit there all night?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just...give me a sec." Alex snickered, plucking the paper she and Dean had been studying from his hands. She squinted at the horrible chicken scratch, then rolled her eyes. If she couldn't read it, they really were in trouble. But suddenly, a knock on the door caught all of their attention. Sim remained in his place as Dean handed Alex the file and got up, moving to answer it. A moment later, Bela flounced in. "Bela," Dean said sarcastically, "As I live and breathe."

Bela, shoving her hands into the pockets of her trench coat, turned to face them, completely ignoring the pissed off skinwalker behind her. "You called me. Remember?"

"I remember you turning me down," Dean muttered.

"Well I'm just full of surprises then." She pulled something out of her pocket, offering it to him. "I brought you your African Dream Root. Nasty stuff, and not easy to come by..." After Dean took the jar, she dropped her bag on the TV and went to open her coat, back to Sam.

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Alex growled, slinking over to stand beside Dean, not particularly eager to go near her.

"What? I can't do a little favor for you guys every now and again?" She smiled charmingly, dropping her coat to the ground. Sam sighed softly and Alex arched an eyebrow curiously at him. What on Earth was he being nuts about?

"Come on," Dean said urgently, examining the jar in his hand. "I wanna know what the strings are before you attach them."

"You said this was for Bobby Singer, right?" Dean gave a curt nod and Alex tilted her head as she said, looking away, "Well, I'm doing it for him. Not for you. He saved my life once." She paused for a brief moment, then added, "In Flagstaff." Alex glanced back at Sam, and Sam shrugged. He didn't know what she meant. "I screwed up and he saved me, okay? You satisfied."

"...maybe," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes.

Bela's gaze darted from Dean, who was still checking out the jar she'd brought, to Sam, and then to Alex, filling with disgust, as if annoyed that they were still allowing the skinwalker to join them. "So when do we go on this little magic mystery tour?"

"Oh, you're not going anywhere. I don't trust you enough enough to let you in my car, much less in Bobby's head." He smirked slightly, pushing past her and heading for the closet, nobody noticing the disappointed look that crossed Sam's face. "No offense."

Bela watched intently as Dean opened up the closet, turning on the lights before opening up the safe within. Shoving the jar of Dream Root in beside the Colt, he then closed it, locking it. "None taken," Bela murmured, a look of annoyance crossing her face. "It's two in the morning. Where am I supposed to go?"

"Get a room," Alex muttered, earning a glare from the other woman. Alex popped her hip out in a manner that made Bela glower at her, a smug look crossing the skinwalker's face.

"Ah, they got the Magic Fingers, a little Casa Erotica on pay-per-view. You'll love it," Dean agreed.

Bela scowled, snatching up her possessions and stalking over to the door. Sam jumped to his feet, calling, "Nice to see you-" The door slammed shut. "Bela." Dean, who'd been smirking after alongside Alex, glanced at his brother with raised eyebrows.

* * *

"Here." Sam handed Alex and Dean a glass of a strange yellow-ish liquid that contained the Dream Root they'd gone through Bela to get. Alex was perched on the edge of the bed across from Dean, Sam sitting a good foot or so away from her on the foot of it a moment later, her nose crinkling up as she took in the drink, sniffing it.

"Should we dim the lights and synch up Wizard of Oz to Dark Side of the Moon?" Alex sighed, rolling her eyes in annoyance at the "Winchester language". When Sam gave him a questioning look, Dean looked disappointed, demanding, "What did you do during college?"

Sam gave him a look and Dean huffed before moving to drink the strange liquid. Sam stopped him, muttering, "Wait, wait, wait. Can't forget this."

Disgust crossed Alex's face when Sam pulled a brown envelope from his shirt pocket, opening it and handing something to both of them. "Here," Sam said, pulling some out of the envelope for himself. "Bobby's hair," he explained to the curious Dean.

Dean swore colorfully, looking even more disgusted with the idea then Alex. "We have to Drink Bobby's _hair_?"

"That's how you control whose dream you're entering," Sam explained, dropping the hair he'd grabbed into his drink. Watching closely, Alex dropped it into her own drink. "You gotta drink some of their...uh... Some of their body."

Smirking at Alex, Dean finally dropped it into his own drink. "Well, guess the hair of the dog is better than other parts of the body." She scowled at him, then simply downed the drink, face twisting in disgust as she did so, determined to simply get it over with. Dean and Sam exchanged a look, not far behind. Raising his cup, Dean said simply, "Bottoms up," and chugged his own.

As soon as he was done drinking, Dean slammed the cup down, grunting and smacking his lips to try and get rid of the taste. He glanced over at Alex. "Feel anything?"

"No," Alex admitted, gingerly setting down her own cup with a sigh. She eyed the Winchesters. "Either of you?"

Sam shook his head and Dean glanced away in an obvious "no". "Maybe we got some bad shwag," Dean suggested it, then paused when thunder cracked outside, rain slamming into the windows.

"Hey, when did it start raining?" Sam muttered, standing. Dean beat him to the punch and got up, peering outside after pushing aside the white curtains that hung from the window. He blinked. "Huh," he grunted. "When did it start raining upside down?"'

"What?!" Alex leaped over to peer outside beside him. "What the hell?" she breathed.

When they turned to look at Sam, Sam was whirling around, studying the place they suddenly stood in a house, which seemed to be lacking in color. Wary, Alex let her blade ripple into view, jerking it from her arm. When she peered over her shoulder, the window was gone, replaced by a fireplace. "Not weird at all," she said faintly.

"Okay," Dean said bluntly, looking around with a look of astonishment. He didn't know what to think of the sudden change of setting. "I don't know what's weirder. The fact that we're in Bobby's head or that he's dreaming of Better Homes and Gardens."

"Again with the bloody Winchester speak," Alex grumbled.

Sam narrowed his eyes, then suddenly gestured around them. "Wait. Wait a sec. Dean, imagine the place without the paint job. More cluttered, dusty, books all over the place."

"It's Bobby's house," Dean realized, starting forward. Alex glanced between the two, then shrugged and stuck close to the eldest Winchester, her blade ready. Quietly, in a hushed voice, Dean called, "Bobby?"

Sam paced over to the opening of the living room, studying the stairs. Suddenly, he turned around, glaring out the windows. He knew the feeling of being watched, and that was definitely happening at the moment. Studying the outside world for a moment, Sam started towards the stairs after looking away, looking at the top of them. "Bobby?" he whispered, hoping silently that they would find the older hunter. Shaking his head, he glanced back. "Dean. Alex. I'm gonna go look outside."

Dean hesitated, then hissed back, "No, no, no. Stay close."

Alex nodded her agreement. "It's not safe, Sam," she said quietly, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Dude," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "I'll be fine. Just...look around in here. Look, we gotta find him."

Dean studied his brother's expression for a moment, then gave a curt nod, waving for Alex to stick close to him. "Don't do anything stupid, Sammy." Sam nodded, then walked briskly for the door, opening it and stepping outside...where it was no longer raining. Instead, everything suddenly bursting with color again, the sun beaming down on him. Glancing behind him at the blue house, listening to the birds chirping, Sam edged out further onto the porch with a confused expression. He frowned as he took in a decently new looking car, sitting in a spot that was lined with brightly colorful flowers.

Deciding it was too weird to deal with at the moment, Sam turned to head back inside, but was met by the sight of the door slamming shut. Swearing, Sam reached out and tugged desperately, trying to open the door again. Slamming a hand on a door, he shouted, "Dean! Alex!"

Getting no response, he made his way over to the window, banging on the wall beside it. He could see Dean and Alex through it with ease, both looking around with their backs towards him as they spoke to each other, neither seeming to notice the other Winchester trapped outside. "Dean!"

Grumbling, Sam stepped off the porch to find another way in.

* * *

Alex kept her blade out as she watched Dean open a set of doors that led to a kitchen. He walked in first, wary, and Alex stuck close to him, following him through the kitchen. "Bobby?" Dean called softly. He slid into a hallway, then paused. Two doors, he noticed, one across from the kitchen and one to their left. "Bobby!"

"Nothing," Alex said, shaking her head. She lowered her blade, and they turned to head back into the kitchen...only to pause when they both heard something. Alex's head snapped around, icy blue eyes locking onto a door they hadn't noticed.

"Who's out there?" someone called out nervously, voice quivering in their fear.

Alex and Dean exchanged a look, then made their way towards the door. Alex sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of the long gashes that ran along the wood. Her fingers brushed against them as Dean went for the door knob. "Bobby," he said softly, "You in there?"

"Dean?"

Alex frowned, biting her lip. That voice sounded familiar...she could have sworn she'd heard it somewhere before... She watched closely as Dean reassured, "Yeah. It's me. Open up."

Bobby opened the door, glancing at the two hunters. Dean got a look of relief, Alex one of shock. "Hey," Dean greeted as Bobby searched the area behind them before moving towards the kitchen.

"How in the hell did you find me?" Bobby demanded as he glanced around, eyes darting this way and that to make sure the screaming woman wasn't there. He touched a bloody spot that stretched from his cheek to his nose. Dean walked beside him, Alex keeping close behind the two men.

"Sam, Alex, and I got our hands on some of that Dream Root stuff," Dean explained, only to frown when Bobby suddenly whirled on Alex, who jumped in surprise.

"Alexandriana Montgomery?" he said gruffly, studying the skinwalker. Hesitantly, she gave a nod, wary. "Worked with your mother once or twice. Nice lady. Didn't know one of her kiddos survived."

Clearing her throat, she said faintly, "Two. But...one of us can't touch silver." She gave a faint smile when Bobby's eyebrows rose.

Bobby gave her a studious look, then shrugged, turning his attention back on Dean. "Dream root? What the hell are you talking about?" He glanced around, looking nervous. True fear crossed his face when the lamps suddenly flickered. "Hurry." He turned and darted back for the closet, but Alex snatched up his arm in a surprisingly strong grasp, frowning.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean said gruffly, frowning. "What's going on, Bobby?"

"She's coming," he rasped, trying to get his arm free.

"This is a dream, Mr. Singer," Alex said soothingly, trying to reassure him that what she said was true. Bobby gave her a look, his eyes flashing as if suggesting the skinwalker was crazy. "It's a dream," she insisted, "None of this is real!" Dean nodded his agreement.

Suddenly, a door flew open. Alex, catching the sound, whirled around and went still, eyes flashing with shock. Dean, noticing, turned as well as Bobby said faintly, "Does that look made-up?" Dean took in the woman, examining her and noting the white dress stained in the blood that slicked her face. Behind them, the closet door slammed shut and Bobby swore, trying to force it back open, rattling the doorknob. Dean frowned, glancing back at him before focusing on the woman again. He frowned. Rather than the white dress, she now wore normal clothing, a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Completely normal except for the cuts that decorated her chest and neck. She didn't look very happy with them, however. "Bobby," Dean said slowly, "Who is that?"

Bobby stared at the woman, tears gathered in his eyes as he rasped, "She's...she's my wife." Alex's gaze darted to him with surprise, her hand tightening around her blade as the woman's gaze lost their hardened face, simply looking at them without moving.

"Why, Bobby?" she asked suddenly, her voice like the sound of bells. Alex tensed, ready to attack if need be. "Why did you do this to me?"

"I'd rather died myself than hurt you," Bobby answered with a longing tone in his voice.

"But you did hurt me," she whispered, her gaze hardening as she spoke, grief and fury spilling into her voice and across her face. "You shoved that knife into me, Bobby, again and again. You watched me bleed...watched me _die_."

"Bobby, she's not real," Dean tried to insist, grabbing Bobby's shoulder and roughly shaking him. Bobby didn't answer him, eyes never leaving the cold woman as she whispered, "How could you?"

"You were possessed, baby," Bobby said softly, "You were rabid. And I didn't know what I know now. I didn't know _how_ to save you."

"Mr. Singer-" Alex was cut off by the woman as her voice rose to a scream.

"You're lying! You wanted me dead! If you'd loved me, _you would've found a way_!"

Dean shook the older hunter harder, then muttered, "Come on!" With Alex's help, he drug the protesting man into the living room, slamming the doors behind them as Bobby's wife ran for the doors, still screaming.

* * *

Sam groaned from where he'd been knocked to the ground by a stony looking man. Clutching his shoulder tightly, Sam glared up at him, scowling. "Who are you?"

The man curled a lip. "Who are _you_? You don't belong here."

"You're one to talk," Sam retorted, eyes darting towards the house. "You're in my friend's head." Were Dean and Alex okay? Had they found Bobby yet? Concern for all three of them flooded him as he turned his attention back on the man before him.

"You got a poor choice in friends," he drawled in response, his hands tightening around the bat in his hands. "He came after me, this is self-defense. He wanted to hurt me." He smirked suddenly. "You should be nicer to me. In here...you're just an insect. I'm a _god_."

* * *

Alex pressed her back against the rattling doors, panting for breath as Dean joined her, both staring at Bobby, who had tears rolling down his cheeks. Dean reached out, snatching up a wire from a shelf beside him and tying it around the door's handles. Panting, both straightened as Bobby whispered, "I killed her."

"Mr. Singer," Alex cried, desperate in her attempts to get him to listen to them. "This is your dream that you can wake up from! I mean it! Hell, you can do _anything_!"

"Just leave me alone, "Bobby said bitterly, making his way back towards the doors. "Let her kill me already."

Dean grabbed his shoulders, shaking him a third time as he tried to get him to wake up. "Snap out of it, man! Look at me." Bobby didn't and he tried again, this time shaking only just lightly. " _Look at me_. You gotta snap out of this now, Bobby. Snap out of it! You're not gonna die."

"We're not going to _let_ you die," Alex agreed, touching his shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting motion. She barely knew this man known as Bobby Singer, but she could tell just by looking at him that he was a good one, that he did his best in life.

"You're like a father to me," Dean added, gaze determined. "You gotta believe me. Please."

Bobby studied Dean for a moment, glancing back after a brief second to glance at the door his wife's ghost continued to scream and bang on in her rage. Finally, his gaze turned back on him. "I'm dreaming?"

"Yes," Alex said eagerly, relieved. "Now take control of your dream."

Bobby took a final look at the door, then closed his eyes. Within moments the banging and screaming had stopped. Dean, cautious, waved for Alex to check, and she did. Removing the wire, she slid the doors open, examining the empty kitchen. "I don't believe it," Bobby said with wonder.

Dean, groaning in relief. "Now would you _please_ wake up?"

* * *

Bobby flipped through the papers that Dean, Alex, and Sam had been using for the investigation, his gaze expertly scanning them. While Alex was perched on the chair beside the bed and Sam was standing beside her, Dean sat on the bed next to him. "Hey, Bobby. That, uh...that stuff, all that stuff with you wife?" He paused when Bobby glanced up. "That actually happen?"

Bobby's gaze hardened, glancing at Alex, who was studying the ground. "Everybody got into hunting somehow, Dean." Dean mumbled an apology and Bobby waved him off. "Don't be sorry. If it weren't for you, I'd still be lost in there. Or dead." He paused for a beat. "Thank you."

Dean's lips twitched into a hint of a smile, and Alex stepped up, rocking her chair back. "He wasn't in his dorm."

"What?" Dean frowned, glancing over at her now, and Alex shrugged.

"Stoner boy wasn't in his dorm," Sam repeated, nodding. He'd gone with Alex to check for Jeremy, though he hadn't been particularly eager to meet with him again. "My guess is he's long gone by now, Dean."

"He ain't much of a stoner," Bobby said without looking up, examining a picture of the subject of their conversation. "His name's Jeremy Frost. Full-on genius. Hundred-and-sixty IQ. Which is sayin' some, considering his dad took a baseball bat to his head. He died before Jeremy was ten. Injury gave him Charcot-Wilbrand, he hasn't dreamed since."

"Not what he said," Alex muttered, examining the copy of the driver's license that had belonged to Jeremy's father, one Henry David Frost. She handed it off to Sam.

"Looks like a real sweetheart," Sam said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he put the paper back on the bed, which was covered in papers, pictures, articles, you name it.

"Til he started dosing the dream drug," Dean muttered, gaze thoughtful. "How'd he know how to dig up your worst nightmare and throw it at you?"

"He was rooting around in my skull," Bobby answered, then added in a mutter, "God knows what he saw in there."

Sam studied the small group around him, then suddenly frowned, crossing his arms. Something had struck him. "Yeah. How'd he get in there in the first place, Bobby? Isn't he supposed to have some of your hair, your DNA or something?"

"Yeah," Bobby said bitterly, looking fairly annoyed. "Before I knew it was him, he offered me a beer. I drank it. Dumbest frigging thing."

Realization dawned on Alex and her face twisted into one of guilty nervousness. Laughing nervously with flushed cheeks, she commented lightly, "Oh, I don't think it's too bad. Wasn't that dumb, Mr. Singer."

Three pairs of eyes locked on her and she smiled faintly. "You didn't," Dean accused, groaning.

"I was thirsty," Alex protested, "And it was free booze, okay?"

"That's great," Sam snapped furiously, "Now we have to make sure he doesn't get to either of you."

"We can just...you know, find him first?" Alex suggested defensively, scowling. She wasn't the only one who could make stupid decisions. Dean and Sam had made plenty of them!

"We better work fast and coffee up," Bobby said grimly, glancing between the Winchesters and the skinwalker. "Because one thing we cannot do is fall asleep."

* * *

 **| Two Days later |**

"Touch me one more time, Winchester," she threatened in a dark tone, the bags beneath her icy eyes making her look even more dangerous as she tried not to fall asleep in the back of the Impala as Dean drove. "And you'll be lucky to still have that hand."

Dean smirked at her. "I'm not the one who let the guy we're hunting get my DNA, sweetheart." Then he frowned, shoving a hand through his hair with an impatient look upon his face. "This Jeremy guy's not a frigging ghost. Where the hell could he be?" In a silent attempt to make Bobby and Alex feel better about the lack of sleep, he, too, had proceeded to remain awake, using the idea of research as an excuse and now, he looked just as irritable as Alex felt.

"You sure you don't want me to drive?" Sam said, the only one of them all to catch some z's. Dean glared furiously at him as he added, "You seem a little...caffeinated."

"Thanks for the news flash, Edison," Dean said sarcastically.

Alex curled up in the back seat, resting her head against the cold glass of the window. All she wanted to do was _sleep_. And when Dean's phone suddenly went off, she growled, glaring as he fumbled for it before finally answering it with a pleading, "Tell me you got something."

"Strip club was a bust, huh?" Bobby said from the other line.

"Yeah."

"That was our last lead."

Dean groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. Sam glanced over. "What the hell, Bobby!"

"Don't yell at me, boy," Bobby snapped, seeming irritated. "I'm working my ass off here, just as hard as you idjits are."

"Sorry," Dean muttered, "I'm sorry. I'm just...I'm tired."

"Who the bloody hell isn't? At least you can sleep if you want." Alex growled from her place in the backseat. She glared at the happy looking Sam, who seemed pleased that he felt more than just a little awake. "Ask him what the witch has."

"What you got, Bela?"

Bela's voice echoed over the phone. "Sorry. Sometimes the spirit world is in a chatty mood, and sometimes it isn't."

Alex curled a lip, disgusted as Bobby repeated the lack of information. "Great!" she snarled, "Why don't we just all go blow our brains out?! We'll talk to ya later, Bobby." He hung up, then slammed his hands on the steering wheel, furious. He didn't understand why he was trying so desperately to stay awake. _Alex_ was the one who'd been stupid enough to drink the beer. Yet here he was, trying to make her feel better. "That's it," he said suddenly, pulling the car onto a side road. Finding a clearing in the woods they'd been driving through, he shut the engine off. "I'm done."

"What are you doing?" Sam demanded, looking confused.

"Taking myself a long-overdue nap," Dean muttered back, making himself comfortable as he slid down in his seat and rested his head back. Alex growled softly in frustration.

"Dean, that's just plain rude," Sam said bluntly, glaring at his brother.

"You know what?" Alex slammed her hand down on the seat, near Dean's head. He opened an eye to glare at her. "To hell with it. I'm sleeping, too."

"Alex!" Sam turned on her now, exasperated. "Jeremy can come after you!"

Alex gave him a smirk, her words making even Dean lift his head and frown at him. "That's the idea, Sammy." Sam arched an eyebrow, and she spread out on the back seat. "Come on, if we can't find him, let him come to us...or to me, I suppose."

"On his own turf?" Sam said bluntly, "Where he's basically a god?" She shrugged, and he narrowed his eyes, reaching back and suddenly plucking a few strands of hair out of her head. Alex yelped, clutching her head. "Not alone, you aren't."

"What are you doing?" Dean questioned, opening an eye to peer at his brother.

"Going in with her. At least then it'll be two against one," he muttered, reaching for the items to make the drink. "Yes or no, Dean. Are you gonna come with us into the dream world or not?"

Dean scowled, holding his hand out. "Hand me the friggin' thing, Sam."

Alex merely sniffed, looking annoyed. "Bloody bastards."

* * *

Sam's eyes snapped open to darkness, and he felt a moment of utter confusion before he realized that he was exactly where he'd been a few hours before: in the Impala in the middle of a forest clearing. Groaning in frustration, he reached out to slam a fist into Dean's shoulder, waking him, and then proceeded to swat at Alex until piercing blue eyes glared at him in the darkness. "Wake up."

"For the love of-" Dean scrubbed a hand down his face, looking just as exhausted as he had before he'd fallen asleep. Alex sat up, tiredly leaning her head against the seat he sat in and Dean rolled his eyes. "What are we still doing here?"

Sam shook his head. "I dunno." Noticing Alex closing her eyes, he tapped her cheek gently until she scowled viciously at him, snarling under her breath before storming out of the car. Before she slammed the door, however, she froze, staring at a space in front of the car. "Alex?"

"Someone's out here," she answered warily, looking bewildered. Dean and Sam exchanged a look, then swung out after her. Out of nowhere, music began to play, and Dean's eyes went round with shock when he realized a woman sat on a little blanket in a corner of the clearing, a picnic basket beside her. "Sam?" she whispered. "Who's that?"

Sam, who stood beside her, didn't answer. The woman smiled daintily up at Dean as she said, "Hey. You gonna sit down?" She sipped at a glass of red wine in her hand, reaching to pluck another glass out of the basket. "Come on. We only have an hour before we have to pick Ben up from baseball."

 _Ben? Who the hell is this?_ Alex's gaze darted to Dean, who was studying her with a nearly longing look in his eyes. "I've never had this dream before," he muttered as the two ducked around the car to join him. Despite his words, Alex knew immediately that he was lying. He had, he just didn't want to admit it. "Stop looking at me like that, Sam," he added when Sam's eyebrows rose.

"Dean," the woman said softly, "I love you." Suddenly, she vanished, as if she hadn't ever been there. Dean whirled around, looking desperately to find her, and even Alex felt a twinge of grief for the pain in his eyes as he demanded to know where she'd gone.

Suddenly, something snapped. Alex's skinwalker senses zoned in immediately on the location of the sound, and she grabbed Dean's arm when she looked into the trees and saw a narrow-eyed Jeremy. " _Sam_ ," she said urgently, nodding in his direction. But when Jeremy ran off suddenly, both skinwalker and Winchesters took off after him. Within seconds, Dean slowed to a halt, realizing he'd lost track of both, and was suddenly standing inside a hallway lined with doors, the woods on a wallpaper. "Well, damn," he muttered.

Slowly, making his way down the hall, then stopped before a door. The door opened slowly before he could even touch it and Dean stopped, watching carefully as it revealed the inside of a motel room. As he stepped inside, the eldest Winchester came across a man sitting in a chair at a desk, clicking a button that turned a lamp on and off. Suddenly, his head craned around to look at Dean, his gaze dark. Wary, Dean glared at another version of himself.

"Hey, Dean," the other one said with a smug smirk.

Dean copied the smirk, though his didn't hold the same attitude. "Well, aren't you a handsome son of a gun."

The other Dean cocked his head, standing smoothly. "We need to talk." Dean nodded thoughtfully, starting forward. He was copied, the "fake Dean" walking in the same direction opposite of him.

"I get it, I get it," Dean mused, "I'm my own worst nightmare, is that it? Huh? Kind of like the Superman III junkyard scene? A little mano y mano with myself?"

The fake Dean stopped walking, leaning back against the door so that it clicked shut. "Joke all you want, smart-ass. But you can't lie to me. I know the truth. I know how dead you are inside. How worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror and hate what you see."

Dean's body tensed, but he forced a smile to his face. "Sorry, pal," he drawled. "It's not going to work. You're not real. 'Cause see, this is my siesta. Not yours." He lifted his hand, leaning back with a smug expression. All I gotta do is snap my fingers and you go bye-bye." He snapped his fingers once, then again when nothing happened. The fake Dean just watched as Dean snapped a few more times, trying to see if he could get the situation to work.

The fake Dean spread his arms out, waving around him. "See? I'm not going anywhere? Neither are you." The door behind Dean slammed shut, the lock clicking into place. "Like I said..." The fake Dean raised a hand, much like Dean had moments before, but this time, there was a gun in his hand. "We need to talk."

* * *

A sharp bang made Alex's eyes snap open, their blue color glowing strangely in the dark. Groaning softly, gasping for air, she reached over and nudged Sam until he woke up. Both glanced towards the driver's seat, where Dean was still asleep. "Dean," he muttered, hitting him on the arm as Alex climbed out of the Impala. "Hey. Wake up."

Suddenly, Dean turned around, but he wasn't Dean. Jeremy wore a thunderous, dark look on his face and Sam only had a moment to swear in surprise before Jeremy slammed the tip of the baseball bat he held into his stomach. Sam shoved the door open, falling out face first, grunting in pain. Jeremy exited the car, bat resting on his shoulder as he walked around it. "Boy, you guys just don't know when to leave well enough alone. Do you?"

Alex's lips parted in surprise and a low growl exploded from her lips, her canine teeth lengthening as she prepared to change forms. "You're a psycho," Sam muttered.

"You're wrong," Jeremy said icily. Alex reached for the blade at her arm...then froze in horror when it didn't materialize. He smirked. "Yeah, I don't think you guys need anything...you won't be leaving here anyways." He pointed his baseball bat at Alex. "Especially you. You've pissed me off pretty damn good."

Alex bit back her snarl and instead growled, "I dare you to tell Dr. Gregg that you're not psychotic, you bloody bastard."

Jeremy smirked. "The doc?" He shook his head, shouldering the baseball bat. "No, no. The doc's the one that got me hooked on this stuff...and then he took it away." He scowled, as if furious with the idea. Sam, still lying on the ground and holding his more than likely bruised middle, glared as he leaned against the Impala, shifting the bat so that he looked ready to swing. "But I needed it, and he wouldn't let me have it."

"So you killed him?" Sam said, sounding wary. He glanced at Alex nervously and Alex bit her lip in response. They were close to powerless in a place like this. She doubted she would be able to seriously hurt him. She couldn't even change forms.

"I can dream again," Jeremy answered with a grin. "You know what it's like? Not being able to dream? You never rest. Not really. It's like you're awake for fifteen years."

"And let me guess," Alex said sarcastically, voice bitter. "That made you into a bloody lunatic."

Jeremy whirled around, pointing the bat at Alex with a deadly look in his eyes. "I just want to be left alone. I want to _dream_."

"I'm sorry," Alex retorted, glancing at Sam, who was grimacing on the ground. He'd be useless for the moment. "We can't let you do it if you're killing people to get what you need."

"Wrong answer." Suddenly, Alex was on the ground, tasting blood in her mouth from where the bat had slammed into the side of her head. She groaned, forcing herself to roll over, and caught sight of a smug looking Jeremy, standing over her. Sam swore under his breath, struggling to stand now, but was suddenly tied down to the ground, ropes connected to each hand and foot. And each rope end connected to a rail spike that had been planted in the ground. "I'm getting better and better at this," Jeremy crowed, "Stronger and stronger all the time. But you three? You're not waking up. Not this time. I'm not going to let you."

Alex met Sam's gaze, dizzy, and swore softly under her breath.

* * *

"I mean, you're going to hell and you won't even lift a finger to stop it," the fake Dean mused as he and Dean stared each other down. He curled his lip and chuckled. "Talk about low self-esteem. Then again...I guess it's not much of al ife worth saving, now is it?"

"Wake up, Dean," Dean muttered under his breath to himself, looking irritated that he couldn't. "Come on, wake up..."

"I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of Sam. You are nothing," the fake Dean said smugly. "You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog."

"That's not true," Dean gritted out, forcing himself to smile faintly.

"No? What are the things you want? What are the things you dream? I mean, your car? That's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's. Do you even have an original thought?" Dean scoffed, looking fairly annoyed by the fake Dean's comments. "No. No, all there there is is, "Watch out for Sammy. Look out for your little brother, boy!" You can still hear your Dad's voice in your head. Clear as a bell." He motioned to his head with the gun he still held.

Dean grinned. "Just shut up."

The fake Dean lowered the gun stepping towards Dean with careful precision. "I mean, think about it. All he ever did is train you, boss you around." He stopped when they stood face to face, eyes shining with his triumph. "But Sam... Sam he doted on. Sam, he loved."

Dean's grin vanished, an angry look replacing it. "I mean it," he warned. "I'm getting angry."

"Dad knew who you really were." The fake Dean merely continued speaking as if he wasn't there, the gun still in his hand. "A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?"

"Son of a _bitch_!" Dean's temper snapped and he shoved the fake Dean, his eyes flashing as he hit the wall above the desk and slammed down onto it. "My father was an obsessed bastard!" he snapped, kicking the fake Dean back down onto the desk when he tried to get up. He held the weapon as a bat and hit the fake Dean, then pinned him to the wall after dragging him up from the desk. "All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam. That was his crap. He's the one who couldn't protect his family." He stepped back, then swung the weapon a second and then third time. "he's the one who let Mom die. Who wasn't there for Sam. I always was! he wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me. And I don't deserve to go to _Hell_!"

With that last word, Dean raised the gun and shot the fake Dean twice in the chest. He glared at the now dead copy, lowering the gun with a dark look upon his face. Approaching the fake Dean with caution, refusing to remove his gaze from him, he froze when the fake Dean's eyes snapped open. They were completely black, like a possessed demon's. Dean's widened and the demon lunged forward, grabbing the front of Dean's shirt. "You can't escape me, Dean," it spat, voice hard and angry. "You're gonna die. And this... _this is what you're gonna become!_ "

* * *

Alex moaned beneath the assault raining down upon her, her pained icy eyes locking with Sam's sympathetic and equally pained dark ones. Jeremy, who had been raining blows down upon Sam's legs and chest moments before, stood over the heavily breathing Alex, the bat hovering just above her chest. "You can't stop me," Jeremy crowed. "There's nothing I can't do in here."

"Because of the Dream Root," Alex rasped, giving Sam a meaningful look. Sam's eyes snapped into an understanding look.

"That's right," Jeremy answered, lifting his bat to swing at Alex's face. The skinwalker cringed, preparing for the blow.

"Yeah?" Sam challenged suddenly, glaring at the other man. "Well, you're forgetting something." Jeremy paused to look at him and Sam's lips curved into a smirk. "We took the Dream Root, too."

"Jeremy!"

"No," Jeremy breathed, whipping around to see a harsh looking man standing at the edge of the woods, where the clearing met the trees. "No. Dad?" he whispered as the man started walking towards them. Alex moaned in relief when he began to backpedal desperately, rolling onto her stomach and clutching her bruised face in her hands. Sam, suddenly untied, shot to his feet, the bat somehow in his hands as he slammed the bat across Jeremy's face with no sympathy in his eyes.

In the Impala - the real Impala - the trio of hunters snapped awake, a grimace on each of their faces.

* * *

Alex found herself caught between two conversations. One being Dean as he muttered to himself, a phone pressed to his ear, the second being Sam and Bobby, who were discussing...psychic things? Alex shrugged, clueless, and returned her gaze to Dean as he turned to face Sam and Bobby when they entered. "Hey, you two seen Bela? She's not in her room and she's not answering her phone."

Sam kicked the door shut behind him with a shrug and Alex sneered her disgust. "The witch must have taken off. Cowardly bitch."

"Alex," Dean muttered warningly, then said with a shrug, "It's a little weird."

"Yeah, well." Bobby wasn't looking at them, was busy folding a piece of paper and tucking it into his pocket. "If you ask me, what's weird is why she helped us in the first place?" Dean commented on her saving the elder hunter's life and Bobby frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"She said something about a thing in Flagstaff," Sam explained, frowning at Bobby. The Winchesters exchanged a confused look and Dean closed his mouth as Sam turned back to Bobby. "Well, then why did y-"

"You boys better check your pockets," Bobby mused, nodding at them. Alex hit the realization with a soft moan, already climbing to her feet when Bobby added, "not literally."

Dean froze, then turned to face the safe in the closet. "No, no, no, no," he muttered, darting over to open it. The second the click sounded, he threw it open...and discovered it to be empty.

"The Colt," Sam groaned as Dean swore and slammed the safe shut with a furious look on his face. "Bela stole the Colt."

Alex's face twisted with annoyance. "Damn it all to bloody hell, Winchester! I told you to be careful around her!"

"Shut up and pack your crap," Dean growled back, throwing an empty duffel bag at her. She caught it with ease. Sam gazed questioningly at him and Dean turned his face towards his younger brother, a dangerous look in his green eyes. "We're gonna go hunt the bitch down."

Sam held out his hand and Alex placed her bag in it with a sniff, watching as he folded it carefully into the trunk of the Impala. Dean, zipping his own bag shut, suddenly questioned, "Hey, Sam. I was wondering. When we were in Alex's head, what did you see?"

"Just Jeremy," Sam explained, giving a small shrug of his shoulders. "He kept separating Alex and I from you. Easier to beat our brains out, I guess."

Alex's icy eyes narrowed. "What about you, Winchester? You never told us what you saw."

"Nothing," Dean said gruffly, shaking his head. "I was looking for you two the whole time." Dean locked the trunk after closing it, then walked around and hauled himself into the driver's seat. Sam and Alex locked gazes, then darted around to the other side. Soon, Alex found herself smirking proudly, comfortably in the passenger seat while Sam folded his long legs to fit in the back seat. "Sam," Dean said after a moment. Sam glanced up. "I've been doing some thinking, and... Well, the thing is...I don't wanna die. I don't wanna go to Hell."

Sam swallowed thickly, looking off to the side, and Alex watched the two of them with a softened expression. "Alright. Yeah. We'll find a way to save you," Sam said quietly.

Without another word, Dean started the Impala, and left the motel they'd been staying in behind.

* * *

 _Another quick chapter...:D_

None. ;-;


	7. A Little Bit of Acting

**| February 10th, 2008 |**

"Drop it, Winchester," Alex drawled, smirking over the top of the laptop she typed away on. Her icy blue eyes gleamed with a triumphant look when Sam shot her a dirty look. "You're fine, stop moping...and admit it. I scared the bloody hell out of you."

"Did not," Dean muttered, flipping the page of the book he was searching through. "I'm not scared of slobbering mutts, Alex."

"That's not what it looked like when you woke up and went after the gun," Alex retorted, grinning as she clicked on a link. She paused in her teasing to study the paragraph of information that appeared on the screen. She leaned forward, attention caught. "I think I found it," the British skinwalker said suddenly, glancing up. Sam stood and came over to peer over her shoulder immediately while the fairly pissed off Dean took his time. "An acheri. It would explain the child the witness saw. It's a type of demon that takes the form of a child before it kills someone."

"The black eyes of the child, too," Sam agreed, then snatched his laptop away. Alex protested, but he ignored her in favor of surveying the information more closely. "Definitely an acheri. The problem will be finding and killing it...it could be any child in this town. We don't know which one..."

"The witness claimed to have seen it in an orphanage," Alex reminded.

Dean nodded slowly. "You go check out the orphanage, Alex. Sammy and I'll go look around town to make sure that's where it really is...it may have a hiding hole and is just using a kiddo's appearance."

Alex chewed quietly on her lip, her eyes darting from Dean's face to Sam's and then back again. "Acheris are nasty demons, Winchester...not even I want to go up against one by myself." She shook her head, red-blonde hair falling into her face. Dean's eyebrows rose at the look on her face. "Shut up," she snapped before he could speak. "I had a bad encounter with one last year...left me with a nasty scar after almost killing me. They're rare, not even one a year if we're lucky, but they know how to do their jobs."

"I'm with Alex on this one, Dean," Sam agreed, "We should stick together. How about we all go look into the orphanage first, then go looking around if it turns out to be nothing."

"Three people can't show up and ask about kids," Dean said bluntly, scowling. "It's weird."

Sam smirked. "I'll wait in the car then. Alex can even have the front seat."

Alex's eyes scanned the moose with a wary look in them. "What are you up to, Winchester Number Two?" she demanded, her accent sharpening in her nervousness. Sam merely shrugged, gathering up his phone and wallet before leaving the room. Dean's brow was furrowed in thought as he tried to figure out what Sam had planned. "You know anything, Winchester? Dean?"

"No," he admitted finally, rolling his eyes as he snatched up the Impala's keys. "Come on." Alex leaped to her feet, lightly trailing behind him with a fairly concerned look on her face. She eyed Sam as she slid into the passenger seat, and he merely pretended not to notice the looks she was giving him.

Dean started the car as she finally pleaded, turning to face the younger of the two Winchesters, "Come on, Sammy, what the bloody hell are you planning?"

"I'm not planning anything," Sam defended, giving her a falsely offended look. She narrowed her eyes dangerously, but he looked away, snickering under his breath.

It was only when they were walking into the building did Alex fully realize what he had been planning. And that was only because a young girl came skipping down a hall, saw both the hunters leaning against a wall as they paused to discuss an approach to the subject, and beamed, excitement flashing across her face.

It clicked within the skinwalker's mind. "Are you bloody kidding me?" she snarled under her breath, eyes flashing furiously. "Sam's so dead. I'm killing him."

"What did he do?" Dean frowned, looking bewildered.

Alex jerked her head in the girl's direction as she ran to tell her friends the discovery she'd made. "Apparently you and I are together," she said with a blunt tone, rolling her eyes. "The kids are gonna think we're a couple looking to adopt..." She made a sound of disgust, one that Dean found himself agreeing with. "Lovely. Just what we needed...though it may help us in getting what we need...you willing to act a bit?" Her lips curved into a smirk.

"Hell no," he said with a dark look on his face. "I'm not pretending to be anything like that with you. Ever." Disgust colored his tone.

Alex flicked his arm irritably, then forced a smile onto her face, slightly hurt by his words. "Whatever," she retorted. She straightened her back, pointedly turning her back on him. More then two months and he still refused to trust her completely, even when she had done everything that was required to gain his trust. At least she had Sam's complete and utter trust...

Suddenly, someone peeked their head out of the office they'd been waiting beside, a brilliant smile appearing the second they laid eyes on the grumpy Dean. "What can I help you two with?" she said eagerly, heels clacking as she stepped out to smile even more brightly at them.

Alex sighed. Lovely. Just what she needed to improve her mood. But then she made herself smile in response, her gaze sharpening at the smell of sulphur...but then again, the scent filled the entire building. "We're here to talk with a few of the children." She dug her fake FBI badge out, showing it to the woman, who gasped quietly in surprise. "Do you mind?" She waved towards the stairs, where she knew the children would be. "My partner here will ask you some questions...if that's okay, of course."

"That's fine," the woman said eagerly, turning a flashing smile on Dean, whose mood was too dark to even notice. "Go ahead...they should be in the different bedrooms upstairs."

"Thank you," Alex said politely. She turned on her heel, glad she hadn't worn heels or anything ridiculous that would have slowed her down. Dean had irritated her to the point of tears, and she had to stop at the first bedroom she came across to blink away angry tears before knocking lightly.

"Come in!"

The second the door opened, Alex took a big whiff. But there was no scent that would cause suspicion. So she simply smiled cheerfully at the confused looking girl that called the room home. She was small, not more then six years old, and she was sitting comfortably on the floor with toys littering the space around her. Her dark eyes watched Alex curiously, and she tugged on a dark braid. "Hi there," Alex said with a gentle smile, kneeling in front of her. "What's your name?"

"...Melanie," she said warily, hugging a toy to her chest. "Who are you?"

"I'm Alex," Alex answered, smiling warmly at the young child. "What are you playing, Melanie?"

Melanie's face lit up with eagerness as she immediately began to talk. "I'm playing with my dolls!" She waved at the dolls, all sitting in carefully arranged positions. "This one is the momma, and these are all her kids! See?"

"That's bloody brilliant," Alex complimented. Melanie laughed at her strange words, and Alex's irritation faded. "So. Melanie? Can I ask you a question?" Melanie shrugged. "Have you seen anything funny in the last few days? Like the lights going off and on? Or is anyone being weird?"

Melanie thoughtfully stroked the mother doll's hair, her face anxious. "Um, Krissy's being weird. Weirder then everyone else."

"Weird how?"

"She doesn't talk to us anymore." Melanie glanced at Alex with a serious look upon her face. "She's...quiet. She never says anything, only looks out a window. But sometimes she screams at night. She has nightmares." She shuddered. "And when she wakes up, she has all of these funny looking scratches. Or there's blood on her. The, uh, lady says there's nothing weird about it."

Alex slowly thought over this, her eyes narrowed cautiously. So perhaps the one she'd left Dean with was in on it, too... Maybe the twat could nail him and do what she wanted to for her. "Can you show me where Krissy is, Melanie? I'd like to talk with her."

Melanie shuddered, shaking her head wildly. "I don't want to go by her...she's scary. But she's at the room on the very end of the hall on this floor," she reported, pointing in the correct direction. Alex smiled, murmured a quiet thanks, then ducked out of the room...only to slam into a fairly pissed off looking Dean.

Alex gave him an icy cold look, still irritated with him. "Well? What'd you find?"

"That most of the things in here are demons," he said bluntly. "Lady you left me with, a worker that showed up. A kid. They're all friggin' demons."

"Lovely," Alex muttered, swearing softly under her breath. "We need to get out of here then. We can't leave the kid though. She's not a demon, Winchester. She's one hundred percent human."

"Then grab her and let's go," Dean snapped impatiently, glaring at her. "What's taking you so long?"

A growl escaped her lips and she threateningly glared at him. "I'm quite literally two seconds away from beating your face in, Winchester. Besides. I'm not done investigating. So I'm going to hand her to you, you're going to get her out, and I'll come out when I've checked something out. Got it?"

Dean rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath before warning, "I'm giving you five minutes, Alex. And then we're gone."

"Then don't bother waiting at all." She shot him a furious look, then ducked back into the room. "Melanie, dear? I need you to meet a frie- a person I know. He's going to get you out of here, okay?"

Melanie blinked. "Why?"

"Because there are some scary monsters in here and we're gonna get you to safety, kiddo," Dean said, slipping into the bedroom after her. "Let's go." Ignoring her cried protests, he picked the child up, tucking her under one arm like she was some kind of football. He shot Alex a look. "Five minutes, Alex. And we're gone. You hear me?"

"Yes," Alex snapped. "Now go. I'll be out in five minutes, Winchester, I promise."

Dean rolled his eyes then ducked out, a girl screeching furiously under his arm for her dolls.

Alex paused, then snatched up the momma doll that Melanie had been playing with, shoving it into her jacket pocket. The least she could do was get the doll to the girl after making her suffer through all of this... She followed Melanie's instructions to where the other girl was said to be and cautiously peeked into the room. A girl sat in the middle of the room, rocking, her back to the door as she whispered nonsense words. Alex narrowed her eyes, swinging the door open all the way and stepping in. "Hello?" she said softly, eyes on the girl. "Are you all right?"

The girl whipped her head around with an unnatural hiss, her black eyes full of a vicious gleam. Alex reeled back, whipping around with a yelp of surprise, but was horrified when she discovered demons behind her, too, their dark eyes eager. "Look who we have here," the man purred, a hand darting out to grab Alex's arm. Alex winced at his bruising grip, glaring furiously. This is just what she needed. Dean would never let her live this down! "The little skinwalker whose been buddy buddy with the Winchesters!"

She never should have teamed up with those bloody bastards!

She curled her lips back into a snarl. "Let go of me," she spat, ripping her arm free of his grasp. The girl behind her, Krissy, gave a pealing laugh, dancing out of the room to stand right behind her. Alex reached for her blade, then thought better of it. She'd rather not lose it...so, instead, she lunged forward, slamming between the two demons. A sharp stabbing pain made her cringe, but she ignored it in favor of changing forms, snatching up only jacket and the doll before racing down the stairs, nearly tripping and falling dozens of times in her dash for safety. She burst outside, ignoring the screams and shouts of surprise at the sight of a wolfdog suddenly racing out of the building. She wasn't oblivious to the enraged screams behind her.

She took only a brief moment to notice, irritably, that the Winchesters were nowhere to be found. She knew Dean would do it, but Sam had _let_ him? What the hell! Shaking her head and forcing herself to focus on the matter at hand, she dove around a corner and slowed to a fast trot through an alleyway. They wouldn't follow her this far. It was more than just a little unlikely.

She shook her fur out, letting her temper come back. They'd _left_ her! After the months of hanging out and fighting with them, they'd _left_ her. And she was more than just a little bit upset about it all.

She whined softly, her grip on her jacket and the doll tightening. At least she still had her blade. It would handle most of the things she needed. Now the problem would be avoiding people until she could get back to where she needed to be: grabbing her possessions and going off to hunt alone again.

"There!"

 _Bloody hell!_

She took off at a dead run at the sound of a voice. Not a demon, she knew immediately. They would have just attacked. And by the sound of swearing, it could only mean one stupid thing she was familiar with.

Dog catchers. It seemed like a stupid thing to anyone, but as a skinwalker that tried to use this form for hunting? It was an issue.

Especially when they were smart.

Alex growled proudly when she rounded a corner, believing she'd escaped...only to run straight into another one, who quickly put a leash around her neck, careful not to catch the jacket and doll. She gave an unnatural sounding scream, fighting viciously to free herself, but the dog catcher merely grunted, keeping hold of it somehow. "Easy, puppy," he muttered, ignoring her bared teeth to kneel and inspect her shoulder. Only then did Alex feel the pain in it, the blood trickling heavily from the wound. She shifted off of it with a wince. _Ouch._

The man tsked softly, frowning. "Oh, boy, look at this thing," he told the other one when he appeared. "Think it was hit by a car?"

"Nah, some kind of blade," the other one muttered, shaking his head. "The things people do to their dogs...what's up with this though?" He tried to tug the leather jacket from Alex's jaws, but she clung to it, snarling viciously. How dare they attempt to take her favorite jacket from her?!

"Leave it be," the second one, the one that held her leash, scolded. "She wants it, she can have it. Dogs are sentimental, too, you know." Alex liked him, she decided. A lot more than the first one. "C'mon...girlie," he muttered. Alex growled at what he'd done. "Let's get you into the car and to the vet...don't know if you'll be adopted out though...you're kinda big."

Alex merely tightened her grip on her jacket, letting her tail droop.

She was screwed.

* * *

 **|A Few Hours Later...|**

She kept her head rested on her jacket, fighting the drowsiness of the drugs that the veterinarian had given her. Yep, the veterinarian. Only she would have this kind of luck. At least her shoulder wasn't sore anymore...

But that wasn't her biggest issue. No, her biggest issue was the fact that she was stuck in a large cage, but a cage nonetheless. And it wasn't big enough to allow her to shift when everyone went home for the night. her ears pricked forward when a volunteer at the animal shelter knelt beside her cage, offering her fingers through the door. "Hi, there," she said in a friendly way. "How you doing, girlie?"

Alex sighed deeply, nudging her fingers. Might as well be nice to those that were nice to her until she could get out of this. The girl chuckled, then stood. "Well, maybe you'll get adopted," she told the disguised skinwalker. "If not, I'll take you home myself. Been meaning to get a guard dog."

Alex gave a doggy grin, woofing. She could work with that. And the second she was free, she'd steal some clothes, and then track down those _bloody_ bastards that had left her for dead. Then, she rested her head on her jacket, closing her eyes. At least it was warm. And she didn't have to fight for a comfortable place. A whine left her lips before she could stop it. It couldn't have been Sam. No, he was okay. It had to have been Dean.

As the girl walked away, Alex pulled her lips back in a furious snarl. He was _so_ dead.

This went on until evening fell, when everyone left. And then, the night passed without a single issue. It was, quite honestly, one of the better nights of sleep she'd gotten, but she found herself longing to get out of that stupid cage and to run around again. She was on a job and she had work to do!

Relief flooded her when the first thing anyone did was come and let her out. Alex shook her thick fur out, allowed the visiting vet to slip a leash over her head, then snatched up her jacket. The vet merely laughed and guided her into another room, where she rapidly checked over the injury on her shoulder.

"Hm," the woman murmured. "Amazing...you're a good healer," she told Alex, who rolled her icy eyes. _Well, duh!_ The vet chuckled and affectionately ruffled her red ears before redoing the dressing on the nasty gash the demons had left. The second she was done, Alex picked up her leather jacket, ready to make a dash for it if she could. She had to be ready at all times. If there was a chance, she had to take it.

Except there was no chance this time. Instead, she was taken to a larger kennel and put in there. Alex surveyed it quickly. It was long, but not very wide, and there was, much to her frustration, a roof to her cage. Which meant she couldn't crawl over in the middle of the night. _Damn it!_

She set her jacket down, trotting back and forth along the edges with a soft growl escaping her. This was ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous! She needed out...now! She had to get out! The Winchesters had all of her possessions except for what she had on her, and if they left, she'd have to waste time to tracking them down!

Her day continued on like this for a while, and she was in the middle of lapping at a water dish that a soft gasp filled the air. Alex jerked her head around in surprise to discover a little girl staring through the cage with wide eyes, and Alex eyed the padlock on that kennel's door. There was no way the girl could get her out "accidentally".

A sigh escaped her and Alex trotted to the front of the cage to lick at the girl's fingers. Perhaps she could act all cute, get adopted, and then run off as fast as she could? Perhaps stealing clothes in the process would be a good idea...

Her plan appeared to be working, too, she realized as the girl giggled again and reached further in to pet her head. Alex leaned into her touch. _C'mon! I'm cute and cuddly, too!_ Might as well project her doggy self as a cute companion to get a better chance!

But a mother soon came and dragged her daughter away without sparing Alex even a second glance. Alex bared her teeth in frustration. _Bloody hell!_ She threw herself down in exasperation, resting her head down upon her jacket again, closing her eyes. She'd get out eventually...

She just prayed that this wasn't a kill shelter.

* * *

It was a few hours later that a clicking caught her attention. The skinwalker lifted her head to see a gently smiling woman with olive skin and glossy black hair studying her, brown eyes gleaming as she poked her fingers through like the girl had. "Hi there," she said softly. Alex's nose twitched; something smelled off about this woman, but not in a bad way. She smelled nothing like the demons she hunted. Cautious, Alex edged forward to let her stroke her fur through the chain link. "Aren't you a big one?"

Alex rolled her eyes and threw herself down upon the ground, letting the woman gently run her fingers over her red and white coat. _Obviously_ she was huge.

The woman glanced up and she realized then that the vet had accompanied her. "What kind of breed is she? I've never seen a dog _this_ big..."

"We think she's some kind of wolf mix," the vet explained. "Maybe with a husky of some sorts? Anyways, they brought her in from the streets with a wound inflicted by some kind of blade...that's why there's a bandage."

"Wow." The newcomer gave a low whistle, then said firmly, "I'll take her."

Alex jerked her head up to stare at this strange woman with a shocked expression. She'd _take_ her? This had to be the shortest amount of time spent in a pound ever! She let her tail thump on the ground, curling her lips back in a wolfish grin. Dean was _dead_. The two women laughed, and the vet took the one that was breaking her out to sign some paperwork. Alex darted back to grab her jacket and the doll that was still hidden within its pocket, then scrambled over to wait beside the door to her kennel.

It was only an hour or so later that the woman came back, a collar and leash in hand. She forced herself not to growl as the vet let her in and she slipped the collar around her neck. This was a minor thing. She'd just have to wait until she could take it off. The leash was clipped on and Alex scooped up her possessions before tugging the woman towards the door.

Huh. She really needed to learn her name.

She tugged her right out the front door and happily breathed in the fresh air. Next step: let her take her to her home and escape as soon as she could. The woman laughed as she flicked her ears forward, trembling in her anticipation. Gentle, the woman suddenly ruffled her ears. Alex tensed at first, then rolled her eyes. She needed to act like a dog until she could get away. She leaned into the touch, wagging her tail again. It wasn't hard to act when she was being treated like a dog in this form...it came naturally.

"You're huge," she repeated, chuckling as she gave Alex's ears a final tussle. And she was; the skinwalker's canine form reached the five foot seven girl's hip, even just a bit more. She was, after all, a skinwalker. Naturally she'd be larger than normal dogs. Alex snickered; the woman before her should have seen her when she was a child struggling to control her instincts! She had been adorable.

She continued to talk as she led Alex to a decent looking car - though Alex didn't favor it as much as the Impala, of course. There was nothing that would ever compare to _that_ beauty. "Hm...you need a name. This is going to sound stupid, because it's such a common name, but I really like it, so I'll call you Red. How does that sound?" Alex shrugged; it wasn't the worst name she'd been called. Alex hopped up into the back seat under the young woman's demand, then flopped out, spread out across the backseat comfortably.

Along the drive, which was a good long ways away, Alex finally came to learn her name when a phone call came. "Hello?" she mused, glancing around before pulling onto a neighborhood's street. "Yes, this is Avery. ...yes, I'm still selling that one. Would you like to purchase it? Sure! I'd love to sell it to you! I'm certain you know my address, so stop by whenever you feel like it! ...yep! Six hundred, no tax. Thank you!" She hung up, and beamed. "This is great!" she said cheerfully, "Got myself a dog finally, and even made the money back! I've been trying to sell that painting for weeks!"

Alex blinked. Hm...so she was an artist then? Interesting. Alex sighed heavily, shifting to rest her chin on the car's door, watching trees and other things pass by until they pulled into a driveway, where a large house stood.

 _Hello lovely place that I'll be staying in for two minutes..._ Alex thought, then hopped out of the car when Avery opened it for her.

* * *

 **| Around Two Days Later... |**

Biting back a furious snappish tone, he gritted into the phone in his ear, "You better have a damn good reason for this, Alex. Get your ass to the motel. _Now_." That said, Dean hung up and tossed the phone onto the bed that small girl wasn't sniffling in her sleep in. Sam watched quietly, the laptop perched on the table in front of him, eyebrows raised. "What?!"

"For someone who claims not to care whether or not she dies," Sam mused, tapping away at the keyboard, "You're extremely determined for Alex to come back."

"I don't want any of her skinwalker buddies coming after us," Dean snapped before beginning to pace back and forth. Again. For the third time since they'd gotten there. "Why the hell isn't she picking up?!"

"Um, Mr. Scary Guy?"

Dean grimaced at the shaken voice. _Mr. Scary Guy? C'mon, kid, think of something not so offensive, would ya?_ Forcing himself to get rid of this pissy look he knew he wore, Dean stopped to look at her. The girl innocently held up a blinking familiar phone. A very familiar phone that he knew belonged to none other than the woman he was trying to call. "Damn it," he muttered, taking the phone from the nervous girl, shoving it into his pocket.

"She's going to be angry," Sam commented. He glanced up from his laptop, eyes thoughtful as he gazed at Dean. "You told her five minutes; we were gone in under one, Dean. Maybe she's decided to wander off by herself. I wouldn't blame her."

"Nah, we have all of her stuff," Dean muttered. Silently, his mind raced. The skinwalker wouldn't wander off, would she? Yeah, he knew he'd pissed her off with his earlier comment, but wasn't that part of the deal? He could piss her off as much as he want without killing her? Besides. It wasn't his fault one of the demons had practically flung itself after them with a murderous glint in his eyes eyes as another jumped from the roof, aiming for his car...

He scowled at the reminder that his Baby now supported a nasty dent in its hood, something that had been made nearly two days ago. He needed to get that fixed as soon as possible.

"Any luck in tracking her down?" Dean made his way over to look over his brother's screen, and Sam's lips kicked up in a hint of a smirk when he noticed the girl watching them with widened eyes. She was in awe that anyone could be like them.

"Uh, yeah. Just now. Check this out." He fixed the laptop's screen so Dean could see it better, settling back. "Found this picture not too long ago...new animal in the local pound." Dean took in the familiar icy blue eyes and red and white coat of the dog and grimaced. That was Alex all right. And just to prove it, a leather jacket was clutched in her jaws. No wonder she hasn't come back yet; she can't. And it looks like she's been there since only an hour or two after we stopped at the orphanage."

"She can turn human," Dean said bluntly, "Can't she crawl over the friggin' cages or whatever?"

"Not when they look like this..." He clicked on another link, then showed Dean the cages and kennels. "She'd be stuck in there. They're padlocked, too." He tapped the screen. "Want me to run over, grab her from it?"

Dean gritted his teeth, wanting to go with, but realized that not only would Alex not want to talk with him...but there was also a confused looking child sitting on a bed with a pillow hugged to her chest. They needed to take her to some other orphanage in a nearby town... "Ugh. Fine. Go. Hurry it up though, Sammy, work needs to be done. We need to ditch the kid as soon as possible."

Sam snapped his laptop shut and stood, only a few inches from Dean and reminding the elder of the two Winchesters just who was taller. "Stop being a dick and entertain the poor kid. She's basically been kidnapped. Play that game Alex bought a few days ago...Uno, right? Show her how to play and we'll take her somewhere safe as soon as Alex is back."

Dean glared. "I'm not playing _Uno_ with-" She sniffled and he glanced at her, then gave Sam a sharp shove. "Just go get the bitch, would you?"

"You shouldn't talk like that in front of kids," Sam muttered, then smirked, caught the keys to the Impala when Dean tossed them, and left the room.

* * *

The pound was quiet, not even close to bustling with people as Sam stepped into it, his hands shoved into his pockets as he glanced this way and that, trying to find Alex - and quickly. He didn't want to take too long in a place like this, where demons could quickly come and find him unable to fight back. He had some holy water, of course, but nothing other than a regular gun that had been hidden at his back, stashed in his jean's waist. Dean got the knife since he was protecting a kid.

"Uh, hey," he said, catching the attention of the woman at the desk. She paused in what she was doing to glance up questioningly. "I, err, seem to have lost my dog and caught a picture of her when I was scanning the site..." He pulled out the picture he'd printed out from the same site that he spoke of, showing it to her. "Have you seen her?"

"Oh!" The woman looked astonished. "That one! Yes, we've seen her all right. She came in with some kind of wound from a blade..." She gave Sam a suspicious look. "You didn't make that wound, did you?"

"No," he said hastily.

"What's going on?" A dark haired woman appeared, dressed in a white coat with her hair pulled up and dark eyes gleaming curiously.

"Remember the big one that came through?" the one at the desk questioned. The veterinarian nodded, smiling slightly. She'd liked that dog in particular. "He's asking if she's still here. Do you know if she is or not?"

"I'm sorry," the vet said, turning to Sam. "She's not. We weren't aware that she belonged to someone...guess I should have, though, the way she was holding onto that jacket. Left with it, too. She got adopted out pretty quickly, by a woman named Avery Hunt. I can call her and explain the situation; I'm sure Avery would be willing to return your dog."

"No," he said quickly. Better that they not bring any more innocent people into the mess of their lives - if Alex hadn't already. "Thanks for the information though. I actually know her from a job a while back...I'll give her a call and see if I can get my dog back."

"I'm so sorry," the vet repeated, giving him a sorrowful smile. "We really didn't know."

"No, it's fine," Sam insisted, grimacing his frustration. Time to hack and find more information. He was glad he'd brought his laptop; he'd just do that stuff in the car, where he couldn't be seen, and just not go back to the motel. He'd call Dean first, of course. That way he didn't get too pissy about the matter. "Thanks for letting me know where she is though." Without another word, he gave a wave, then ducked back out of the building, rolling his eyes. Only Alex!

Sam quickly dialed Dean's number, then raised the phone to his ear, thoughtful. "Hey," he said after Dean had picked up, muttering to the kid "hold on, kiddo". "So...issue. Alex isn't here."

"Then where the hell is she?!" Dean snapped, furious immediately. Sam rolled his eyes. His brother needed to cool his temper just a bit...it may have kept this kind of thing from happening, after all.

"Turns out that some lady showed up and adopted her. One Avery Hunt. I'll look into her, find out where she lives, and go pick Alex up. I don't know how long it'll take though...just keep in the motel room until I come back. Make sure you keep the girl occupied, too."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean snapped irritably. Seriously, why did things like this have to happen only to _them_?! He suddenly grunted. "Jeez, kid, hold on a friggin' second. This is more important then Uno...the nice lady's gonna come back if I can finish this."

The girl squealed her excitement.

Sam grinned. "Are you playing Uno with a little kid, Dean?"

"Shuddup and find Alex. And not a word about Uno to her." Dean hung up with another word, making his brother snicker triumphantly. Alex was going to love helping him tease the other guy over this! Sam climbed into the Impala, reaching behind him until he found his laptop, and then set to work on googling and searching up Avery Hunt. It wasn't difficult; she was well known in the area she lived in. A painter, from the looks of it, and a fairly accomplished one at that. Sam navigated to a website she'd set up and easily grabbed her address and phone number. He'd call first, hopefully prepare her for his appearance, then swing in, grab Alex, and hurry back so they could move on.

The only issue with this plan?

The house was two hours away.

Sam sighed and prepared himself for the long trip that was undoubtedly ahead of him.

* * *

There was no way to describe her mood other than a mixture of furious and surprisingly happy. Yeah, it sucked having to force herself to act like a dog and eat dog food (she wanted to gag every time Avery cheerfully set the bowl in front of her), but it wasn't an unhappy place. Avery was busy and cheerful, usually painting in an art room upstairs with Alex laying on the bottom floor spread out across a vent to keep cool. She couldn't just up and walk out of a closed and locked door, so that was a bit of an issue...which joined with the irritation.

Apparently, her canine form was to large to be trusted outside in a fenced yard alone. Just what she needed. So, unable to escape, Alex was forced to sit back and watch everything that happened with an intense icy blue gaze.

Other than that, two days here in this house hadn't been bad.

At least she was allowed on the couch.

It was evening time when Avery's phone rang and she lazily reached out to the table in front of her couch for it, tired after a long day of painting someone a commission. Alex watched lazily from her spot on the couch, her head resting on her paws as she fought the urge to tug off the collar around her throat. _Bloody hell, this itches!_

"Hello?" Avery yawned into the phone. Alex pricked her ears forward to listen, easily catching the words from where she was.

"Uh, hi," a familiar voice said awkwardly from the other line. Alex bit back a growl. Sam was finally caring enough to hunt her down, eh? "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm looking for my brother's and my lost dog...we spoke with the pound and it looks like she's with you?" Avery's gaze darted to Alex and Alex acted innocent, parting her jaws in a yawn. "I mean, I'm pretty sure it's her. But do you mind if I stop by and see?"

Avery looked fairly upset by the idea, but agreed nonetheless. "Sure. But it's kind of late...how far from my place are you?"

"About half an hour, I think. I thought you might prefer that I call before showing up."

"I do, thanks," Avery said with a faint smile. She made a soft smooching sound and Alex, understanding the language of talking to a dog, crawled over to let her smooth a hand over her red ears. Let Avery enjoy the last few minutes with the dog she'd had for two days. Then she'd be _out_.

"Uh, sure. Bye." Sam hung up and Alex twisted to scratch her neck. Thank _God_ this business was almost over. She sniffed thoughtfully at Avery again. Avery smelled _very_ different from just about every other person and creature she'd come into contact with.

She'd have to talk with Sam about it.

Avery, however, seemed more than just a little upset at the fact that she would undoubtedly be giving up the dog. "You're such a good one, too," she complained under her breath to Alex, who merely rested her head on her paws again, letting Avery running her fingers through her thick red and white fur. "Why do you have to belong to someone else, hm?"

Alex simply rolled her eyes and remained how she was.

Nearly half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Avery sighed, removing herself from the couch to go answer it, and Alex hopped off the couch to trail behind her, tail thumping in her eagerness. Freedom would soon be hers! Triumphant, she let her icy eyes land firmly as Avery opened the door -

And then she threw herself at Avery, shoving the woman back as a black-eyed man grinned, stepping forward with his arms outstretched to snatch at her. _Bloody hell, why are they chasing us?!_ She snarled at him, her fur bristling as Avery stared at the demon with wide eyes. "What?" she breathed, confused.

"C'mon, doggy," the man said smugly, his black eyes darting down to Alex. She snapped her jaws warningly; she wouldn't hesitate to tear his throat out if she had to. She'd just have to be careful not to swallow any of his blood, because that could turn nasty. Alex growled viciously, shoving Avery back a few more steps. Where was Sam when you needed him? He should have been here by now...

As if to answer her question, the demon suddenly cried out in pain, "smoke" seeming to sizzle off of his body as he crumpled, soaked from head to toe in holy water. Sam hopped over him with ease, swearing as he muttered, "Alex, you got your blade?" Alex instantly stretched a leg out, letting the blade ripple into existence and Sam grabbed it, plunging the blade into the demon's chest.

Avery gave a muffled scream, her dark eyes wide and her hands cupped over her mouth with shock, horrified. Alex winced. _Isn't that lovely. Thanks for helping me out. Here's a dead demon on your doorstep._

Sam panted for breath, stepping away from the demon's body. "Err, sorry about that," he muttered, glancing at Avery. Alex wagged her tail in greeting, relaxing her stance. Avery was safe now. The strange smelling woman wouldn't be injured by anyone, let alone Sam. Besides, Sam was a hunter. She sincerely doubted he would even consider hurting another human being. A soft sigh left her lips as she glanced from the moose-like man to Avery. _Now what do we do?_

"Uh," Avery mumbled, her eyes shocked. Alex grimaced. They owed Avery big time. "Um, okay, there's a, um, dead guy on my steps. Oh, my God." She folded her hands behind her head, looking absolutely panicked. "Y-you're the, um, guy from the phone, right? You just...you just killed someone. Okay, I can..."

Sam gave a faint smile. "Err, it's okay, he wasn't exactly human anymore." Alex grimaced. Wow. How nice of him. How good at explaining he was. "He was a demon, and from the looks of it, you or...the dog," he shot Alex a nervous look, and she let a glint appear in her eyes. _Call me a dog again, I dare you._ "Was his target. Are you okay?"

"Yeah...a _demon_ though? Are you nuts?" Avery scoffed, looking even more nervous. She hugged herself anxiously. "I sincerely doubt that. There's no such thing as _demons_ and that stuff. But, err, I think...I think I'm going to call the, um, police, so how about you take the dog and leave? Please?"

Alex wagged her tail, guilty. The poor woman looked like she was going to lose her mind at any moment. But Sam merely nodded and waved for Alex to follow. She hopped with ease over the demon's body after darting back to fetch her jacket, and shuddered sadly when Avery slammed the door shut behind them, giving a muffled sob as she did so. Sam grimaced as he opened the back door of the Impala for her. "Didn't mean to do _that_. I was just gonna show up and get you, but guess not."

The second the door slammed shut, Alex let herself morph into her humanoid appearance. She groaned happily, stretching. It was wonderful, being in this form. "Oh, well. She's okay, right? Let's go before the bloody police show up...where's Dean?" Her lips curved into a dangerous grin. "I have some special words for him...and you, too. Thanks a lot, by the way. For leaving me behind as a sacrifice to the bloody demons in the orphanage. That was a nice thing for you two to do. Be glad I'm not stabbing you in the throat for pulling that." She reached behind her to carefully peel the bandages that had suddenly became loose off of her shoulder. "Bloody arses, that's what you two are."

"Hey," Sam protested, climbing into the driver's seat. "It's not our fault there were demons that came chasing after the girl. Like, all of the ones in the building it seemed like. Uh, probably more after us, but there were demons."

"Lovely," she said with a scowl. "Did you bring any- ah, thanks." A shirt and a pair of jeans slapped her in the face and she quickly tugged both on before climbing into the passenger seat of the vehicle, pulling her leather jacket on and wiggling her bare feet's toes. "Where's the other one and the girl?"

"Different motel then the one we were using," Sam answered as he started the car. "Dean thought it'd be a good idea to change rooms, just to be safe. We grabbed all of your things before heading out. Everything of yours is in your duffel bag on the table." He suddenly snickered. "When you see Dean, just say something about Uno, would you? He's been playing it with that little girl we dragged out. Which reminds me...what's so special about her that she was the only one besides us not possessed?"

Alex shrugged, resting her head back, yawning. "I don't know," she said honestly. "She just smells human...maybe they were going to sacrifice her to a freaky demon lord or something."

"It's possible."

They fell into a comfortable silence as Sam pulled out of Avery's driveway.

* * *

 **| Next Morning |**

 _Wham!_

"I'm back!"

 _Damn it all to Hell._

Dean pried his eyes open to glare irritably at Alex, who was grinning broadly from the open door, and he gave a sarcastically muttered "Yay! Just what we wanted!" Alex shot him a look, then smiled in a friendly way towards a tired looking girl. Melanie looked exhausted and when Alex glanced at him, he shrugged and muttered, "Was up till two in the morning playing cards."

Her teeth flashed as she grinned. "Ooh, I heard. Dean Winchester's particularly good at Uno, huh? How many times did she beat you? Two? Three? A dozen times?" Dean glared, especially when the skinwalker beamed at Melanie. "How many times, sweetheart?" she asked, stressing her accent.

"Um," Melanie said, smiling shyly. "Twenty three."

"Ooh, good job." Alex winked and Melanie giggled, especially when Dean groaned and then was suddenly pushed out of the bed, Sam taking his spot with a tired sigh. "Sorry, Winchester. Be happy he's sleeping." She smirked. "I almost got to drive the car."

"You better not have," Dean growled.

"Nah, Sammy didn't let me. Now. Melanie. I'm very sorry about our...psychoticness," Alex told the young girl, sitting beside her on the bed. Melanie blinked in confusion, then lit up like a Christmas tree when Alex suddenly pressed a doll into her hands. "Here. I nabbed it."

"Thank you!" Melanie cried, throwing her hands around Alex's neck in a tight hug. Alex smiled slightly, returning it...until Melanie suddenly wrinkled her nose. "You smell like a wet dog."

To her surprise, Dean threw his head back and laughed, and Alex flushed and began to mumble something about getting Melanie to a safe place a couple towns away.

* * *

 _Another quick chapter...:D_


	8. Mystery Spot

**| February 14, 2008 |**

Sam's eyes snapped open as the sound of Heat of the Moment by Asia exploded from the radio. He sat up quickly, his dark eyes full of confusion as he tried to figure out what felt so wrong about the situation, his hair mussed from sleep.

Dean grinned from where he was sitting on the other bed, tying his shoes. "Rise and shine, Sammy!" he shouted cheerfully over the music, and Alex, sleeping on the bed he was sitting on, groaned in frustration before pulling the pillow over her head to try and block the noise.

"Dude," Sam said, raising an eyebrow at him. His brother was in a surprising good mood considering what had happened a few days before. "Asia?"

Dean smirked. "Come on, you love this song and you know it. Get up, puppy, we've got stuff to do today!" He promptly proceeded to quite literally kick Alex out of the bed with his now booted feet, looking smug as he did it. Alex snarled in response, glancing over the edge of the bed to give him a look that promised violence if he did anything similar again.

"Yeah, and if I ever hear it again, I'm gonna kill myself," Sam muttered. Alex muttered her agreement and smacked at Dean with a growl before moving away to claim the bathroom so she could get dressed, shouting over her shoulder, "Be happy I'm not any other skinwalker, Winchester!"

Grinning again, Dean cranked the volume of the raidio up. "What?" he called over it to Alex. "Sorry, couldn't hear you!" He started moving his head in the heat of the moment, and Sam sighed, shaking his head.

Only Dean would be capable of such annoying actions, which he proved moments later when gargling loudly after brushing his teeth after Alex had come out, fully dressed with her leather jacket pulled on over. Her icy eyes were irritable as she pushed her hand through her red-blonde hair. "Whenever you're ready, you bloody idiot," she told Dean, going to stand beside Sam, who'd also managed to look presentable.

Dean, who'd been shuffling through his duffel bag, suddenly plled out a black bra and held it up, smirking at Sam, who glared in response. "This yours, Sammy?"

"Winchester!" Alex snapped warningly, in no room for this.

After Dean had found a gun and stashed it in the waist of his jeans at his back, the trio left to get some breakfast. Apparently it was a "Dean Day" - as Alex called it - because the eldest Winchester was the one who got to choose where they ate. Then again, it was a smaller town, so there weren't many choices, and Alex grudgingly agreed that it was a good idea to eat there. The door chimed as they entered, and a cashier smiled as he handed a man some change, warning, "Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett."

Mr. Pickett was slightly rude as he muttered, "Yeah, yeah."

"Order up!" A cook called in the background as they slid into a booth, Dean and Alex on one side, Sam on the other despite their apparent hatred of each other.

"Can't stay unless you order something, Cal," a waitress sighed to someone sitting at a bar. "You know the rules." Cal passed her some change, looking grumpy as he ordered a coffee.

Dean, who'd been sitting in a rather smug way, grinned suddenly, noticing a poster on the wall. "Hey," he said with a gleam in his eyes. "Tuesday. Pig in a poke."

Sam was exasperated. "You even know what that is?" Alex snickered when Dean shot him a dirty look.

"You boys ready?" a waitress asked, shooting Alex a glare. Alex moaned; so it was one of _those_ women? She _had_ to be at least two or more decades older than the the charmingly smiling Dean. The waitress then proceeded to ignore Alex, who snapped out an order of eggs and bacon with a coffee at her.

"Yeah," Dean said, his grin growing even further at Alex's misfortune. Today was good, apparently. "I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee."

"Make it three coffees and a short stack," Sam added.

"You got it," the waitress, whose name tag read "Doris", said with a smile. She smirked triumphantly at Alex, then strode away. Alex scowled, muttering darkly under her breath.

"I'm telling you two," Dean said as he leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. "This job's small fry. We should be spending our time hunting down Bela."

"Okay," Alex said sharply, "Let's get to work on that. Where the bloody hell is she again?" Dean scowled furiously at her and she smirked, leaning her elbows on the table. "That's what I thought, you fool."

"Shut up," Dean retorted.

"Look," Sam said impatiently, interrupting their current glaring contest. "Believe me, Dean, we want to find her as bad as you do. In the meantime, however, we have this..." He slapped a paper down onto the table. "So this professor, Dexter Hasselback, was passing through town last week. He vanished."

"Last known location?"

"His daughter says he was on his way to visit the Broward County Mystery Spot," Sam answered as Alex leaned forward, chin propped on her hand and her elbow on the table, reading the headline of the newspaper he'd put down. _**MISSING - DEXTER HASSELBACK LAST SEEN IN BROWARD, FLORIDA.**_

Dean flipped over a flyer that had been underneath the newspaper, a large question mark on the front of it. "Broward County Mystery Spot," he read aloud. "Where the laws of physics have no meaning."

Suddenly, Doris had appeared. "Three coffees, black, and some hot sauce for the-" She suddenly gasped as the mentioned hot sauce fell from the tray and smashed onto the floor in a loud crash. Alex winced at the loud noise. "Whoops...crap! Sorry, one moment! Clean up!"

* * *

A growling Golden Retriever snapped its jaws and barked at the trio of hunters as they walked past it down the street. Dean snatched the flyer he'd been studying beforehand from his brother, studying it again. "Sam, joints like this are only tourist traps, right?" he muttered, "I mean, you know. Balls rolling uphill, furniture nailed to the ceiling, they're only dangerous to your wallet."

"Not necessarily," Alex mused, her icy eyes thoughtful. "There are some spots in the world where holes open and swallow people, Winchester. Came across one myself not too long ago...they're like the bloody Bermuda Triangle."

"Broward County Mystery Spot?" Dean scoffed. "No way," he added when Sam muttered that it was possible the places were "legit". "All right, so if it is legit, and that's a big ass if, Sammy, what's the lore?"

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted when his brother suddenly smacked into a blonde girl, who was carrying a stack of paper with a worried look on her face. "Excuse me," she mumbled as they passed.

"The lore's pretty frigging nuts, actually," Sam mused as they walked. Alex listened carefully to what he was saying, her hands shoved into the pockets of her leather jacket. "They say these places the magnetic fields are so strong that they can bend space-time, sending victims no one knows where."

They strode past a set of movers, who were arguing over a desk they were trying to get through a door. Dean said something about the entire job sounding "a little X-Files", to which Alex complained about confusing American things.

"All right," Sam said in exasperation. "I'm not saying this is really happening, but if it is, we gotta check it out. See if we can do something."

"We hear you, Sam, we'll go," Alex sighed, shoving a hand through her red-blonde hair. "Tonight, when they close."

"We'll go get ourselves a nice long look while Alex plays guard dog," Dean agreed.

Alex irritably shoved him towards the street.

* * *

"Wow," Dean muttered sarcastically, gun and flashlight held carefully as he ducked into a neon green hallway, grimacing at the black spiral that painted the walls and door, making it look just a "little" unnatural. Alex stepped through it after him, a flashlight in her hand, and Sam followed close behind, closing the door behind them. "Uncanny," he added as they moved through the hallway.

Sam pulled out an EMF reader as his brother and Alex shined the flashlights around, revealing upside down furniture that had been nailed to the ceiling. Alex thoughtfully studied a table with a wine glass, looking longingly at it. Some wine sounded good about now. "I don't smell anything," she supplied when Dean asked if Sam had found anything.

"No," Sam sighed, shaking his head. "And I know what I'm looking for. Sorta," he added when Dean opened his mouth again. Dean merely shook his head and shone his flash light around some more.

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

All three of them whirled around, Alex letting her blade ripple into existence out of habit. At the same time, Sam turned to look along with Dean, who pointed his flashlight and handgun at the voice. The second he saw the shotgun aimed at him, however, he aimed it elsewhere and gave a nervous smile. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, we can explain," he said carefully.

The owner of the establishment whirled to Sam, gun aimed at him now and then straight at Alex's head. "You robbing me?"

Alex looked down the barrel of the gun without a shred of fear. "No," she retorted. "Calm down, you bloody fool."

Dean shifted and the owner whipped around, the gun aimed at him again. "Don't move"

"Just putting the gun down," Dean said with a huff, but that wasn't apparently enough. The gun went off and Dean gave a grunt of surprise before going down.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, darting forward as Dean gave a choked gasp. Alex went to town on the owner, furious as she kicked his feet out from under him, catching the shotgun in the process and tossing it aside. "Hey!" he muttered, examining Dean's chest. He grimaced at the blood. "Call nine-one-one, Alex," he ordered.

The owner looked to be in shock. "I...I didn't mean to-"

"Shut your trap," Alex said darkly, her icy eyes shining unnaturally bright. She jerked her phone out as Sam watched his brother die with a devastated look, unable to do anything else.

* * *

Sam's eyes snapped open as the sound of Heat of the Moment by Asia exploded from the radio. He sat up quickly, his dark eyes full of confusion as he tried to figure out what felt so wrong about the situation, his hair mussed from sleep.

Dean grinned from where he was sitting on the other bed, tying his shoes. "Rise and shine, Sammy!" he shouted cheerfully over the music, and Alex, sleeping on the bed he was sitting on, groaned in frustration before pulling the pillow over her head to try and block the noise.

Sam stared around them in utter confusion, and then looked at his living and breathing brother, who playfully snickered, "Dude. Asia."

Breathing hard, Sam stared at the eldest Winchester brother. "Dean."

Dean smirked. "Come on, you love this song and you know it. Get up, puppy, we've got stuff to do today!" He promptly proceeded to quite literally kick Alex out of the bed with his now booted feet, looking smug as he did it. Alex snarled in response, glancing over the edge of the bed to give him a look that promised violence if he did anything similar again...then blinked, looking more than just a little confused as Dean cranked the volume up and did some weird head bobbing thing.

The teeth brushing went quickly, and Dean finally took notice of the weird looks the other two were giving him when nobody responded properly to his gargling loudly in an annoying way. "What?"

"I don't know," Sam said bluntly.

"You two okay?" He glanced at Alex. "How 'bout you? You're looking down, too."

"I-" She cut off, shaking her head, frowning at Sam. "You, too?"

Sam gave a tight smile. "Weird dream, Dean. That's all. Don't worry too much about it. We've got it handled."

"...sure. Whatever." Dean turned back to what he'd been doing.

In no time, they were entering a diner Dean had picked out. The door chimed as they entered, and a cashier handed a man some change, warning, "Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett."

"Yeah, yeah," Mr. Pickett muttered, shoving past Alex, who was looking just as lost as the utterly bewildered Sam. She reached out to grab his arm, stopping him before he could slide into the booth. "You've-"

"Yeah," he agreed, lowering his voice so Dean wouldn't notice. "Same here. It's weird."

"Doesn't begin to cover the bloody situation," she growled back, then went to sit beside Dean, as she'd done previously...something she found concerning. _The bloody hell is going on!?_

"Can't stay unless you order something, Cal," a waitress sighed to someone sitting at a bar. "You know the rules." Cal passed her some change, looking grumpy as he ordered a coffee.

Dean took notice of a poster hanging up. "Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke," he said with a grin on his face.

Sam's eyes darted between his brother and the poster. "It's Tuesday?" he demanded, eyes flashing with confusion. Alex swallowed thickly, exchanging a weird look with him, and sat back in her seat when Dean raised an eyebrow and said, "Yeah."

"You boys ready?" a waitress asked, shooting Alex a glare after approaching their table. _Doris_ , Alex remembered. Her name was Doris, and she hated the skinwalker for no apparent reason other than that she was sitting beside Mr. I-Know-I'm-Sexy.

Dean ordered the same meal as he had what seemed like only moments before, and Alex hesitantly did the same, but Sam just stared at her for a few moments before muttering, "Uh, nothing for me. Thanks."

"Let me know if you change your mind," Doris said cheerily. She shot a final scowl at Alex, then walked away, Sam staring after her.

"I'm telling you two," Dean said as he leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. "This job's small fry. We should be spending our time hunting down Bela." Sam didn't answer, still looking after Doris, and Alex looking blankly off into space as she tried to figure out what was going down. Irritated, Dean snapped his fingers in her face, not feeling like reaching across to do so to Sam. "Hey. You with me, puppy?"

"What?" She snapped out of her thoughts, looking at him. His green eyes were unimpressed.

"You sure you're feeling okay?" he questioned, looking fairly annoyed at their lack of attention.

"You don't...you don't remember any of this?" Sam waved at the space around them. Dean arched an eyebrow, and Alex bit her lip, her brows furrowing together. "This. Today. Like it's happened before?"

"You mean like deja vu?"

"No, I mean like it's really happened before."

"Yeah. Like deja vu."

Alex cut into the small argument with a roll of her piercing blue eyes. "Forget about deja vu, you twat. He means if you feel like we're living yesterday all over again. Like we just went through all of the exact same nonsense."

Dean scoffed. "How is that not deja-"

"Don't!" Sam snapped, groaning. "Just don't even say it. Don't," he added again warningly when Dean smirked and opened his mouth.

Alex found herself thanking God for small miracles when Doris returned with a tray of food and two coffees. "Two coffees, black, and some hot sauce for the- oops! Crap!" She watched as Sam caught the falling bottle of hot sauce, his eyes locked on it for a split second before he slowly handed it back to her. She flashed him a smile. "Thanks."

"Nice reflexes, Sammy," Dean commented, then tore into his food with happiness.

Alex and Sam merely exchanged a look, saying nothing as the skinwalker took a bite of her own eggs.

* * *

A growling Golden Retriever snapped its jaws and barked at the trio of hunters as they walked past it down the street, and Sam glanced back at it. Alex merely shot it a snarl under her breath, effectively silencing the annoying mutt. "Sam, I'm sorry, but I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Okay, look, yesterday was Tuesday, right? But today is Tuesday, too." The youngest of the two brothers was currently trying to explain what he and Alex found themselves going through, but was being fairly unsuccessful at it.

"Yeah, no," Dean said bluntly. "Good. You're totally balanced."

"You don't believe me?" Sam said with exasperation all over his face. "Dean-"

Dean only laughed and then grimaced when he collided with a blonde woman. "Excuse me," she murmured, and he gazed appreciatively after her before saying, "Look, I'm just saying that it's crazy. You know, I mean, even for us crazy. Dingo ate my baby crazy. Hey, maybe it was another of your psychic premonitions." Alex's eyes darted to Sam questioningly and he waved her off.

"No, no way, way too vivid," Sam said with a frown. "Okay, look, the three of us were at the Mystery Spot. And then-"

"And then what?"

He shrugged. "Then I woke up."

They passed two arguing movers, who Alex eyed warily, recognizing them, too. "He's not crazy, Dean, I'm in on this, too. It's weird. Don't laugh at him, 'cause whatever it is, it's not fun."

"Wait a minute!" Sam murmured, "The Mystery Spot! You think maybe it-" He grinned at Alex, who pursed her lips thoughtfully. "We gotta check that place out, man. Look, just...go with me on this, okay?"

"Alright, alright," Dean agreed at last, rolling his eyes. "We'll go tonight, after it closes. Get ourselves a nice long look."

"Oh _hell_ no," Alex snapped, glaring furiously at him. Sam nodded furiously in agreement as she said, "We can go now. Right now. When there's a hell of a lot more people around us, nice and crowded so nobody's tempted to pull a gun."

"My God," Dean moaned, "You two are freaks." Alex glowered at him. "Fine, whatever. We'll go now." He stepped into the street, walking a few feet ahead of the other two "psychos" and glanced over his shoulder at them.

And then, suddenly, a car came screeching out of nowhere, slamming into him.

Alex shrieked in shock and Sam stared blankly at his brother for a few moments before throwing himself forward, shouting, "Dean!" Alex dropped to her knees beside Sam, looking horrified as she checked for a pulse. Nothing.

She exchanged a mournful look with Sam.

* * *

Just what the hell was going on?!

A third run through of the morning ended up with them - once again - in the diner. Dean looked as happy as ever over the fact that it was Tuesday and that there was "pig in a poke", ignoring Sam and Alex's exasperation. The skinwalker had groaned, draping herself over the table of the booth they were in, and Sam was begging, "Would you listen to me, Dean? Because I'm flipping out."

"Are you boys ready?" Doris had interrupted, a smile on her face. She gave Alex a small glare and Alex only moaned into the hard surface her head rested on.

"He'll take the special, side of bacon, coffee, black, nothing for me, thanks," Sam said bluntly. Alex mumbled a muffled "nothing", and Doris frowned at her before saying she'd be back with the meal and leaving.

"Sammy, I get all tingly when you take control like that," Dean said with a smirk.

"Quit faffing around," Alex protested, kicking at his legs under the table in her frustration.

"Okay, okay," Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes. He rested his elbows on the table, smirking again, and Sam knew immediately that this conversation was going to be pointless. "I'm listening. So...you think that you're in some kind of a what again?"

"Time loop."

"Like Groundhog Day."

"Exactly like that," Alex input, her icy eyes lifting to land momentarily on Dean, who looked as if he would have believed a demon's promise before this. "You don't believe us," she groaned.

"It's just a little crazy. I mean, even for us crazy, you know, like, uh-"

Sam cut him off with as he said with a sigh, "Dingo ate my baby crazy?"

Alex's lips threatened to twitch into a smirk when Dean glared at him, demanding how he'd known that he was going to say that, but all three were effectively distracted when Doris reappeared. "Coffee, black, and some hot sauce for the - whoops! Crap." Down went the bottle of hot sauce, which Sam caught without looking, holding it back out to her. She blinked, setting it down. "Thanks."

"Nice reflexes," Dean said almost mockingly, earning him another kick under the table. Alex was disappointed when he caught her before she kick him where it really hurt and instead kicked her back as hard as he could. Wincing, the skinwalker gave him a cold look that he returned.

"No," Sam mumbled tiredly, "I knew it was going to happen."

"Okay, look," Dean tried to say, "I'm sure there's some sort of explanation-" Sam only mumbled something else, interrupting him, and Dean rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back as he said, "Calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down," Sam snapped. "I can't calm down. I can't, because you die today, Dean."

 _That_ caught the eldest Winchester's attention. "I'm not gonna die, Sammy. Not today anyways."

"Twice," Alex said without looking up, still resting her head on the table. "We watched you die twice, Winchester. Believe me, it wasn't pretty either time."

Dean looked at both of them as if they were crazy. "Alright," he finally agreed. "I still think you're nuts, but whatever this is, we'll figure it out." Sam only nodded, exchanging a look with Alex when she peeked up.

* * *

The Golden Retriever snapped its jaws at the hunters as they walked past and Alex lost her temper with it, stopping to glower viciously and bare her human-form's blunt teeth. Dean bumped into the blonde woman just as he the previous two Tuesdays Sam and Alex had gone through, and she murmured, "Excuse me."

Alex scowled to herself when they passed the annoying movers, who were snapping at each other.

"Told you it wouldn't fit."

"What do you want then?"

"And you think," Dean was saying. "This cheesy-ass tourist trap has something to do with it?"

"Maybe it's the real deal, you know?" Sam sounded just about done with his brother, and Alex had to fight back a snicker at the thought. "The...the magnetic fields bending space-time or whatever." Dean shrugged, and Sam threw his hands int the air out of exasperation. "Well I don't know how to explain it, Dean!"

Dean smirked. "Alright, alright, we'll go tonight after they close. Get ourselves a nice long look."

"No," Alex gasped immediately, eyes wide.

He gave her a strange look. "Why the hell not? I die there or something?"

"Err, blown away, actually," Sam admitted. "We could go now," he added as an afterthought, frowning to himself. Would _that_ get Dean killed, too? Dean shrugged, agreeing, then started forward, stepping into the street. Sam swore, diving forward and jerking him back as the car that had hit him the day before. The driver yelled at them to stay out of the way before zooming off.

"Wait," Dean said suddenly, glancing at Sam. "Did he?"

"Yes," Alex answered tiredly. "Yesterday, you bloody idiot." Dean grinned, turning on her. "What?"

"Did it look cool?" Dean said hopefully, green eyes bright with interest. "Like in the movies?" Alex gave him a look, deciding then and there that he was the strangest person she'd ever come across. And that was saying something. The skinwalker had come across some interesting people in her time.

As the two began to bicker about something as they crossed the street, Alex fell into step slightly behind them, cocking her head with a frown. Something wasn't right about the situation they were currently in, but she didn't think it had to do with the little "magnetic fields" like Sam thought. It seemed almost simpler than that... She wrinkled her nose. Maybe it had to do with the strange scent in the diner...?

* * *

A few hours later found Dean and Sam interrogating the owner of the building Dean had first gotten killed at. Alex was standing patiently beside Sam, pretending to be a police dog so that she could use her enhanced senses to search anything out. The owner of the place kept shooting the big red and white canine wary looks, and she mocked him for it, giving a dog-like grin as she panted.

"Boys," he said nervously, "I can't tell you how much I appreciate this...we could use all the good things we can get."

Sam didn't seem amused. "How long have you owned the place?"

Taken aback by Sam's sharp tone, the owner said uncertainly though still in a forced peppy tone, "My family's been guarding the secrets here since you don't want to know when."

Dean took over when Sam began to get slightly aggressive with the man and Alex growled, shoving at Sam's legs to get his attention. He glanced down at her and she showed her teeth warningly. _Stop. You're screwing it up, you bloody moose._ "The guy who went missing, Dexter Hasselback," Dean said, crossing his arms. "He take the tour?"

"Hold on a minute," the owner said with a frown. "The police have already been through here..."

Alex growled at him, narrowing her blue eyes until he gulped and answered the question. "The police scoured every inch of this place. They couldn't find that man. I never seen him before. We're a family establishment, and -"

Sam shoved the leash that he'd been holding into Dean's hands and proceeded to get into the owner's face. "Listen to me," he snarled, "There is something weird going on here. Now do you know anything about it or not?"

The owner swallwed. "Okay, look. Guys. Um, give me a break. I bought the join at a foreclosure auction last March, alright? Hell, I used to sell bail bonds."

Alex took a whiff of the air. He wasn't lying, she silently admitted when Dean glanced down at her. She gave a shrug of her shoulders to tell him that before he grabbed Sam by the arm and hauled him away. "Okay, let's get some air."

Outside, Dean rolled his shoulders, green eyes thoughtful as he said, "I hate to say it, but that place is exactly what I thought. Full of crap." Alex huffed her agreement, rolling her eyes as she padded along beside him, still connected to the eldest Winchester by the leash.

"That what is it, Dean," Sam snapped, throwing his hands into the air. The skinwalker felt a flash of sympathy for him. Yeah, she was going through it, too, but she hadn't been with them for _that_ long, and this was Sam's _brother_ who kept dying...reminding her of the situation they would soon find themselves dealing with. What would happen when Dean went to Hell? What the hell would Sam do then?

"I don't know," Dean retorted, shifting the leash to his other hand. "Alright, let me just...so, every day, I die." Sam gave a curt nod. "And that's when you two wake up again, right?" Another nod. "So let's just make sure I don't die. If I make it tomorrow, then maybe the loop stops and we can figure this all out."

Alex blinked. Not a bad idea, she grudgingly admitted. "You think?" Sam said hopefully, looking far more relaxed.

"Worth a shot. I say we grab some takeout and head back to the motel, lay low until midnight." Alex and Sam both nodded their agreement to this statement, Alex tugging on the short leash he'd kept her on for some reason. "Alright, good. Who wants Chinese?"

He had just barely finished his sentence before something suddenly fell out of the sky, crushing him beneath it. Alex gave a small cried yelp of pain when something slammed into her leg, nearly impaling her, and she limped back, trembling in surprise as she turned a panicked look on Sam, trying to ignore the pain and blood.

* * *

Alex's eyes snapped open to the sound of Heat of the Moment by Asia playing and a pitiful moan escaped her just seconds before she was kicked out of bed by a grinning Dean. "Get up, puppy, we've got stuff to do today!"

The second she hit the floor, pain exploded through her leg. She gave a gasp, rolling away from the pain. When she didn't immediately pop up from the floor like he'd expected, Dean walked around the bed to peer at her. His eyes widened fractionally when he took in the blood that was beginning to pool on the floor around her leg, leaking heavily from a wound on her thigh. "What the hell, Alex? What were you doing?"

Alex stretched to grab for the first-aid supplies from her duffel bag as she glared at him. "Trying to save your bloody arse," she retorted, ripping bandages out of the kit. She pressed a fist full of them on the wound as Sam appeared beside his brother. "Just get me some more bandages so I can fix this thing up..."

"That's where-"

"Yeah," she cut Sam off. "That's where that bloody piece of wood jabbed me." She curled a lip in disgust. "This is all your fault, Winchester," she growled at Dean, who offered her their own first-aid kit from his bag.

She bandaged the wound quickly and then hauled herself to her feet with Sam's assistance. She balanced easily on one leg, grimacing as she limped over to grab some clothes. "I call the bathroom," she growled, then slammed the door shut behind her.

When she came out not too long later, Sam and Dean were bickering about something or another. She limped over and smacked both of them on the back of the head, having to reach up to properly get Sam. "Stop that, get dressed, and let's go, before you two piss me off even more than I already am."

* * *

Alex felt sick by the time they'd tried to explain what was going on to Dean in the diner. And not just because her leg was killing her, but because she just wanted whatever was going on to end. "I still think you two are nuts," Dean mused with a sigh, "But whatever this is, we'll figure it out."

"Thanks," Sam muttered, looking just as depressed as Alex felt. The skinwalker had sat beside him this time, resting her head back against the seat in an attempt to not feel sick. "First we thought it was the Mystery Spot...now we're not so sure."

"What do we do then?" Dean looked actually curious and Sam's lips quirked up into a smile for the briefest of moments.

"Try to keep you breathing," Sam answered. "Try to make it to tomorrow. That's the only thing I can think of." Alex raised a hand to give him a thumbs up in agreement.

"Shouldn't be too hard," Dean said smugly, snickering at the ill look on Alex's face. She shot him a glare that would have had most cringing away, expecting death to arrive soon.

"Yeah, right," Sam sighed. He shook his head. "We've watched you die a few times now, Dean. We can't ever seem to stop it."

"Well, nothing's set in stone." The eldest Winchester studied the menu and the sign that advertised the meal he'd purchased for the last few Tuesdays they'd gone through. "You said I order the same thing, every day. Right? Pig in a poke, with a side of bacon?" Sam nodded, looking uncertain. He winked, then turned to Doris, who'd been chatting with the cook a few feet away. "S'cuse me!" he called. She glanced over. "Can I get sausage instead of bacon."

Doris beamed. "Sure thing, hon."

"See?" Dean said smugly. "Different day already. See, if we all decide I'm not gonna die, then I'm not gonna die." He gave a happy thanks when Doris placed the food in front of him, stabbing a sausage. "You guys are pretty dumb sometimes, you know that?" He took a bite...and then started to choke.

Alex sat up so fast, she nearly gave herself whiplash. "Are you kidding me?" she wailed as Sam shoved himself to his feet, shouting Dean's name. "You bloody fool, I'm going to-"

* * *

A death by shower, taco, and electrocution later found Sam tearing into the walls of the Mystery Spot with a half-crazed look on his face. Alex was standing beside Dean, who was knelt knelt beside the owner of the building. He'd been duct-aped to the chair, and looked absolutely terrified.

"Everybody's fine," Dean reassured, looking slightly worried about his brother despite the forced grin he wore. "Nobody's gonna get hurt, okay?"

"Sam?" Alex said faintly, "Maybe you should drop the bloody axe. Let the bastard go. What do you say?" She was leaning heavily on one leg, the other still injured though nowhere near as badly as it had been a few Tuesdays before.

"Something's gotta be going on here," Sam panted. His grip around the axe was tight enough that his knuckles had turned white. His hair stuck up everywhere, and Alex felt as if he was the one they were supposed to be hunting. "I intend to find out what." He swung the axe again, setting back to work on tearing into the wall.

"Place is torn up pretty good, dude," Dean said with a fake cheerful tone. "Time to give it a rest." He stood as Sam shouted about taking the place down to the very last nail. "Sammy, that's enough," he said, approaching his brother. "Give me the axe."

"Leave it, Dean."

"Give it."

"No, you give it!"

"Let it go, Sammy."

"No."

"Please be careful," Alex pleaded pitifully, her face turning white.

"Let it go, come on!"

"Dean, leave it! Please, I need to-"

Blood spattered both Alex and the owner, who both screamed, though the owner's was muffled by duct-tape.

"...Dean?"

* * *

The door chimed as they entered, and the cashier smiled as he handed Mr. Pickett man some change, warning, "Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett."

Mr. Pickett was slightly rude as he muttered, "Yeah, yeah."

"Order up!" The cook called in the background as the trio of hunters slid into a booth. Dean looked cheery, while Alex and Sam looked just plain tired of life itself.

"Can't stay unless you order something, Cal," the waitress sighed to the man sitting at the bar. "You know the rules." Cal passed her some change, looking grumpy as he ordered a coffee.

"Hey," Dean noted eagerly, "Tuesday. Pig in a poke."

Alex didn't hesitate to slam a set of keys down on the table, her gaze emotionless. When Dean glanced at her in surprise, noticing that Sam didn't look so confused about the matter, she said blankly, "That old man's. Trust us, you don't want that bloody bastard behind the wheel, Winchester."

Doris appeared, just as she always did. "You guys ready?"

"Uh, yeah," Dean said, eyeing the two warily. "I'll have the special, side of bacon and a black coffee."

"Hey, Doris?" Sam said without looking up, sounding just as disinterested as Alex did. "What I'd like is for you to log in some more hours at the archery range."

"You're a terrible shot," Alex agreed.

Doris gazed at them in shock. "How'd you know that?" They didn't answer, and she gave a huff before leaving.

"Okay, so you think you're caught in some kind of what again?" Dean leaned back in his seat. Sam mumbled the answer out, closing his eyes as he rested his chin on his open palm. "Okay, so a time loop. Like...Groundhog Day?"

"Does it matter?" Alex rasped, her forehead dropping to the table. "There's no way to stop the damn thing."

"Jeez," Dean commented, rolling his eyes. "Aren't you two grumpy little buddies?"

"Yeah," Sam retorted. "Excuse us for being a bit pissy when this is the hundredth Tuesday we're going through. And it never stops. Ever. So yeah, we're a little grumpy, Dean. Hot sauce."

Alex snickered when Dean's confusion was cleared up a moment later as his younger sibling caught the falling bottle of hot sauce. Doris thanked him, Dean complimented him, and Sam only responded bluntly, "I knew it was going to happen, Dean. I know everything that's gonna happen."

"You don't know everything," Dean muttered, scoffing at the thought.

"Yeah, he does," Alex supplied.

"Yeah, right. Nice guess." They spoke in unison that broke when Sam added, "It wasn't a guess, Dean."

"Right, you're a mind reader," both scoffed at the same time. "Cut it out, Sam. Sam!" They leaned towards each other, speaking rapidly now, and Alex had to try really, _really_ hard not to laugh at them at this point. "You think you're being funny, but you're being really, really childish! Sam Winchester wears makeup. Sam Winchester cries his way through sex. Sam Winchester keeps a ruler by the bed and every morning when he wakes up, he- okay, enough!" Dean threw his hands up in exasperation.

Alex cleared her throat, her blue eyes gleaming as she leaned in, too. "That's not all," she murmured, "Randy? The cashier? He's skimming from the bloody register. The judge? He puts on a furry little bunny outfit at night."

"Over there?" Sam joined in, nodding at Cal. "That's Cal. He's gonna rob Tony the mechanic on the way home tonight."

"What's your guys' point?" Dean groaned, tired of the entire conversation.

"Our point is," Alex growled, serious now. "We've lived through every possible Tuesday, Winchester. We watched you die in _every_ possible way. The Mystery Spot has been ripped apart, burned down, and Sammy here has tried _everything_ he knows to save your life. We can't. No matter what we try, you die. And then we wake up. And then it's Tuesday. Again."

* * *

After Dean finished his meal, they left the diner, and Alex shoved her hands in her pockets as she limped alongside beside the eldest brother. Sam was being rather annoying in her opinion, narrating everything they came across a second before it happened.

"Dog."

The Golden Retriever snarled and barked at them.

"There's gotta be some way out of this," Dean was saying to Alex, deciding his brother wasn't likely to listen to him.

"Where's my dang keys?"

"Where's my dang keys?" Mr. Pickett muttered as they passed him.

"Excuse me."

"Excuse me," the blonde girl muttered as she collided with Dean, smiling faintly before ducking around him and continuing on her path.

"She's kinda cute," Dean mused, earning a look of annoyance from the skinwalker beside him. Suddenly, he grabbed Sam's arm to stop him, and both of his companions glanced at him. "Hey. In all of the times we've ever walked down the street, I ever do this?" He winked, then jogged after the blonde girl. "S'cuse me, miss!"

"No," Sam breathed.

Alex grinned when Dean came back, a paper in hand. He offered it to Alex, who snatched it from his grasp and studied it. It was a missing poster, and there was a picture under the word "missing" that lined the top of it. "Hundred Tuesdays and you never bothered to check what she was holding in her hands?"

Alex flushed. "We were too busy trying to figure out why the day kept repeating over and over," she muttered, handing it to Sam. "That's the guy who went missing, right?"

"That's his daughter back there," Dean pointed out.

Sam grinned, then darted after the girl, shouting, "Ma'am!"

Alex rolled her eyes as the Golden Retriever growled and barked at them, mostly at Alex. She put a stop to that by glaring at it and snarling herself. Ignoring her, Dean grinned. "Hey, buddy!" he greeted. "Somebody need a friend? Good boy...you're not gonna bite like she does, right?"

"NO, NO, DON'T YOU-"

* * *

"So," Sam said. His face was full of exhaustion as he spoke. Alex tapped way at the laptop beside him, and he read carefully over her shoulder as she did so. "The police report says that Dexter Hasselback is a professor but that's not all he is."

"What is he then?" Dean said, smirking at Alex with a mouthful of food when she glanced up.

"I talked to his daughter," Sam continued. "Guy's quite the journalist. Columns in magazines, a blog, the likes." He paused as a man passed them, and frowned when Alex tensed, sniffing furiously as if she was in her dog form. But she then shook her head to clear it. "He writes about tourist attractions. Mystery spots, UFO crashes, that kinda stuff. He gets his kicks debunking them. I mean, he's already put four of these places out of business."

Alex snickered at something on the screen. "Dexter Hasselback," she read aloud, "Truth warrior. More like a bloody gormless idiot." Both Winchesters stared at her in confusion and she rolled her eyes. "He's clueless."

"Anyways," Sam muttered, giving Alex a weird look. "I've read everything the guy's ever written. He must have weighed a ton, he's so full of himself."

"When'd you have time to do all of this research?" Dean demanded. Sam ignored him, snatching the laptop away from Alex and standing. She pouted as he closed it and tucked it under his arm, waving for them to come on. Dean laughed suddenly. "It's funny, you know. I mean, this guy spent his whole life crapping on Mystery Spots, and then he just vanishes in one."

"You're right," Alex muttered sarcastically. "This is absolutely hilarious. Congratulations, you've pissed me off. Again."

As they were leaving, Alex took notice of something and stopped dead in her tracks. Sam glanced at her with confusion and she crossed her arms, a growl leaving her lips. "What's wrong, Alex?"

"A guy has maple syrup for one hundred Tuesdays," she snarled, "And all of a sudden he's having strawberry?"

"It's a free country." Dean didn't seem concerned, just amused by her attitude about the matter. "Man can't choose his own syrup? What have we become."

"Not here," Sam said breathlessly, looking excited that they'd discovered something. "Not in this diner. Nothing in this place ever changes. Ever. Except Alex and I."

* * *

Dean took in his brother and Alex watching a man with sharpness in their gazes as he chowed down on something delicious. "Did I miss something?" he asked, tossing some bacon into his mouth. "And you're caught in some kind of what again?"

"Eat your breakfast," Sam muttered. He shot to his feet, Alex hot on his heels when the man left. A bag was thrown over her shoulder as they followed the man outside, and Dean kept close behind them, questioning what was in it.

They followed for only a moment before Alex suddenly shoved the bag at Sam, form rippling. Within seconds, a massive red and white canine was full out sprinting down the street. Dean swore as she lunged and barreled into the man, sending him to the ground. She bared her teeth, pinning him as he shouted and flailed. Her fur bristled as Sam jogged after her, putting the tip of a wooden stake at his throat.

"I know who you are," Sam snapped, glaring at the man Alex had pinned beneath her. "Or should I say, what."

"Oh, my God," the man cried, "Please don't kill me!"

"Uh, Alex? Sam?" Dean said, eyes wide. "The hell are you two doing?"

"It took us a hell of along time, but we got it," Sam gritted out as if he hadn't been interrupted. "It's your MO that gave you away. Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just little desserts. Your kind loves that, don't they?"

"Sam," Dean said warily as the man panicked, thrashing again. "Maybe you two should-"

"No!" Sam shouted. "There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing." He shook the man slightly. "Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops - in fact you'd pretty much have to be a god. You'd have to a Trickster."

"M-Mister, my name is Ed Coleman, my wife's name is Amelia. I have two kids! For crying out loud, I sell ad space-"

"Don't lie to me!" Sam interrupted, and Alex growled, baring her teeth in his face. "I know what you are! We've killed one of your kind before!"

"Actually, bucko," the man drawled, his face shifting before their very eyes into someone else's. "You didn't."

Alex tensed, looking uncomfortable now, gaze full of horror, and Sam glanced her way for a moment before snapping, "Why are you doing this?"

"You're joking, right?" The Trickster laughed. "You chuckle heads tried to kill me last time. Why _wouldn't_ I do this?"

"And Hasselback?" Dean looked furious now, his arms crossed as Sam jabbed at the Trickster with the stake. "What about him?"

The Trickster grinned. "That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one. Then you guys showed up. I made you the _second_ you hit town. Especially you, little skinwalker," he taunted to Alex, who growled. "Don't think I forgot you."

"So this is fun for you? Killing Dean over and over again?" Sam looked outright disgusted.

"One, yes," the Trickster smirked. "And two? This is so not about killing Dean. This joke is on you, Sam. Watching your brother die...every day? Forever? And _Alex_ ," he continued, throwing his head back and laughing when she tensed. "I haven't even gotten to _you_ yet."

Dean turned his gaze on Alex, looking somewhat surprised. "You know him?"

She growled in response, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"You son of a bitch," Sam muttered furiously, as if translating for the skinwalker.

"How long will it take you to realize? You can't save your brother. No matter what." The Trickster smiled cruelly at them, and Alex shivered slightly, her nails digging into his chest. His grin dropped and he glowered now.

"I kill you, this ends now," Sam answered, digging the stake further into his flesh, enough to draw blood.

"Oh! Hey, whoa! Okay...look. I was just playing around. You cant take a joke, fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, you'll wake up, and it'll be Wednesday. I swear." Sam glared at him with an accusing look. "If I'm lying, you'll know where to find me. Having pancakes at the diner."

He snapped his fingers and then there was nothing.

* * *

Alex's eyes snapped open and she knew instinctively that something was wrong. Her head jerked up and she realized that, for some strange reason, she wasn't in her humanoid form. Stumbling to her paws, she staggered forward only to realize sluggishly that there was something heavy connecting her some kind of pole. Growling in annoyance, she took in the chain for a moment before turning her attention on the thing wrapped around her face.

...where the _bloody hell_ was she to have a muzzle on her?

Her fur bristling now and her mind racing in confusion and panic, she whirled around, trying to find the two brothers she'd been traveling with for months now. But they were nowhere to be found, and she realized she was alone in a small dark area.

She began to pace, carefully working over each thought.

She wasn't with the Winchesters, which meant this was the work of the Trickster they'd been after, no doubt about it. But that didn't mean she could escape it, either. Swearing silently in her head, she tried to revert to her humanoid form to at least take the muzzle out but found herself unable to. Instead, when she tried, pain rippled through her and she winced, her fur standing on end for even attempting.

Just kidding. So much for that.

Suddenly, something creaked, and she whirled around in time to see a heavy door opened. She gave a low growl when someone dressed in a white lab coat stepped in, syringe in hand.

 _...you have got to be kidding me,_ she groaned.

Seriously? This was the _best_ the Trickster could come up with? A experimental lab where they were probably trying to figure out whatever she was? Still, she'd heard stories of a few other supernatural creatures that had gotten stuck in such situation, and she knew it wasn't a pretty place to be in. It usually ended up in _years_ of torture before a painful death.

Lovely. Just what she needed.

Growling to warn off the man, she let her fur rise, making her look even bigger than she already was at a good three to three and a half feet off the ground. She tried to bare her teeth, but it did no good, as the muzzle stopped that, and she swore in her mind when the man ignored her warnings.

Damn she hated being a skinwalker sometimes. Sometimes, it was helpful. She could do what regular human hunters couldn't do, such as determining what they were dealing with fairly quickly. But this kind of thing put her at a risk, too.

Slowly, she crouched, tucking her tail between her legs. Let him come. She'd just bowl him over when he got close enough, use the chain to her advantage, and boom! Freedom!

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice taunted.

Her eyes darted up to a smirking Trickster's face. Bloody hell, she couldn't catch a break, could she! He waved a hand, and both chains and muzzle fell away. Within seconds, she was in her humanoid form, glowering viciously at the bastard. "You bloody arse," she snarled, "How _dare_ you-"

"How dare _you_ ," he retorted, snickering as she stood, pretending she didn't notice her nudity. "No clothes...how brash of you. Come now, Alex, no need to be so naked." He waved his hand, and she grimaced as some kind of cloth brushed against her legs. _Really? A dress?_ He knew damn well that she didn't work that way.

Of course, he knew a lot of things about her, but then again, that's what happened when you seriously pissed off a Trickster by attempting to hunt them and very nearly succeeded in killing them. They learned everything about you and turned it against you. If he hadn't gone after some annoying little man, none of this would be happening...

"Oh, you're not as fun as the Winchesters." The Trickster pouted, making a face at her. "At least Sammy's trying to find and execute me..."

Her gaze hardened. "What did you do to Dean," she growled, her hands clenching into fists. Her eyes had become shards of ice, her lips set in a line that showed her defiance towards whatever he was trying to do.

"Aw," he cooed, "Look at you. Like him, do you? Don't worry. He's not really dead. But Sammy doesn't really know that. That Bobby fellow is trying to convince him otherwise, but..."

"Bobby? No, that would be you, wouldn't it?" she said coldly, stepping closer until she was mere inches away. She gave a short laugh. "You're unbelievable. Un-freaking-beliebable. I know you really aren't here, you bloody coward. So I'll make you a deal. The next time we see each other." She leaned closer, ignoring the syringe he still held. "I'm going to be the one to drive that stake through your heart." She jabbed him with a finger.

"We'll see about that," he retorted, then vanished, leaving Alex alone in her dark little cage.

"C'mon, Sam," she murmured, kicking at the locked door. She made a face at the silky black dress he'd placed on her, deciding she'd rather be naked then wearing it. "Hurry up and get this done with."

Finally, the skinwalker dropped down to sit and rest, waiting impatiently for the whole mess to end.

* * *

"What, you gonna sleep all day? Get up, doggy girl, we got things to do."

Alex jerked upright in surprise, a growl in her throat until she realized where she was just a second before a foot kicked her out of her bed. Sam looked just as confused as her from where he was examining the alarm clock on the small dresser beside his bed. "It's Wednesday," he said with shock in his voice.

"Yeah," Dean called as he made his way back to the bathroom, voice muffled by the toothbrush stuck in his mouth. He spat into the sink. "Usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that thing off, do you mind? It sucks, there's no Asia."

Alex stood slowly, gaze taking in the two Winchesters with a hesitant smiling across her face. Sam practically tackled his brother in a huge hug after he came out of the bathroom, and Dean gave her a strange look. "Dude, how many Tuesdays did you guys have?"

"Enough," Sam breathed. He pulled back, and Alex trotted over to join them, looking more than happy to be back in a normal setting again. _To hell with that weird cage thing...that was just creepy._ "What, err, what do you remember?"

"You were pretty whacked out of it," Dean mused, "I remember getting up with the Trickster. That's it."

"Let's go," Sam said happily.

"No breakfast?" Dean pouted.

"No breakfast," Alex replied hastily, snatching up her duffel bag, deciding against changing out of the clothes she'd been wearing for who knew how long. She wanted _out_ of the weird little town.

"Alright, I'll pack the car," Dean sighed, then seemed confused when Sam panicked and threw himself in Dean's path. "Dude. What now?"

"You're not going anywhere alone," Sam gasped.

"It's a parking lot," Dean said, looking un-amused.

"I'll go with him," Alex promised. She flashed Sam a knowing smile. Whatever the Trickster had done in the time she'd been in the strange cage, she had no doubt that the parking lot's danger was involved. She skipped along beside the eldest Winchester, aware of the strange looks he kept shooting her.

When Sam had joined them, Dean studied him for a moment. "Hey," he said suddenly, you don't look so good. Something else you want to tell me about?"

Sam was quiet for a few moments, then answered, "I just had a really weird dream."

Dean nodded, his expression serious. "So...clowns or midgets?"

Alex groaned and swung into the back of the Impala. She'd let Sam have the front this time...she was sure he needed it more. Besides.

She had some things that needed done, and that meant leaving as soon as she could.

* * *

 _Another quick chapter...:D_


	9. Jus in Bello

**|February 21, 2008|**

Swearing under his breath, Dean rushed into a room after his brother, pausing only to shut the door when Alex had slid in. The skinwalker's icy eyes were gleaming dangerously as her wolf-dog form's nose filled with the familiar scent of Bela. "Her room for sure?" Sam called over his shoulder.

Alex growled, giving a curt nod. Definitely Bela. She was human in an instant, reaching for the clothes Dean held. Dean was momentarily distracted, studying her - until she kicked him sharply in the shin and yanked her clothes on. "Stare at me anymore than you already have," she spat, "And I'll rip your bloody eyes out of their sockets, Winchester. We have better things to worry about."

"She's right." Sam set to work on opening a safe, his face serious.

"Any sign of it?" Dean demanded, leaving Alex to get dressed as checked a few emptry drawers, furious when he found nothing. They all paused when his phone went off, however, and Sam moved over, shaking his head. Cautious, the eldest Winchester answered.

"Dean, sweetie?" Bela's voice came out, falsely sweet. "Are you there?"

Dean was unamused, as were the other two with him. "Where are you?"

"Two states away by now." Bela laughed, careless. "Where's our usual quippy banter? I miss it."

"I want it back, Bela," he warned, gritting his teeth. Sam and Alex exchanged equally frustrated looks as he put it on speaker. Damn, this was pissing him off! "Now."

"Your little pistol, you mean? Sorry, I can't at the moment."

Alex's hands trembled with rage, and she snarled loudly, making sure she could be heard over the phone, "You bloody _witch_! Do you not understand how many innocent lives will be lost if you do this? What kind of person are you to think this is okay?!"

"Oh, hello," Bela said smugly in response. "Nice to hear from you, of course. But what exactly is it that you think I plan to do with it?"

"Take the only weapon we have against an army of demons and sell it to the highest bidder," came Deans' blunt and irritated response. Sam clenched his jaw, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. He stood beside Alex, towering above her - and the skinwalker silently admitted that he was kind of intimidating when he was pissed.

"You know nothing of me."

The coolness of her answer startled all of them. "I know I'm gonna stop you. You know why? We have absolutely nothing better than to track you down."

"Tough words for the ones who can't even find me." Bela laughed again, sounding gleeful. "Did you really think I wouldn't take precautions?"

There was a moment of silence, which was followed by a horrified look on all three of their faces as Bela hung up with a final snicker. Alex's lips parted and her gaze darted between both of them. "Oh, shi-"

"Hands in the air!"

Just like that, police were bursting into the room, guns ready to fire if necessary. The trio exchanged a final look and then slowly raised their hands.

 _Thank God for hidden weapons,_ Alex decided as she sank to her knees alongside the Winchester upon the order of another cop. Grateful her hidden weapon wouldn't be discovered unless she wanted it to be, she silently agreed with Dean when he snarled under his breath, "That _bitch_!"

"Turn around!" the first cop ordered, his gaze hard. "Now!"

Within moments, they'd been shoved to the floor. Alex squirmed uncomfortably, aware of the lack of shoes she had. "Sam and Dean Winchester," the cop began, and then paused, staring at her for a few moments, realizing he didn't know her name. He continued anyways. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney and have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a Lawyer, one will be appointed for you at government expense."

Dean grumbled, exchanging a look with Sam before his eyes darted upwards to lock on a shockingly familiar person.

Henriksen gave a smug little look. "Hi, guys...it's been a while."

Dean only moaned and closed his eyes, letting his forehead thump against the floor as he repeated, "That bitch."

* * *

Alex bit her lip nervously, watching as the two Winchesters were led in without her. The policeman holding her cuffs said nothing, apparently waiting for Henriksen, who'd told him to keep her there until his return. He knew immediately that she wasn't someone the Winchesters had kept with them before, and the skinwalker was slightly insulted that he clearly didn't think of her as important.

Honestly? She could be more dangerous than the pair of teddy bears in there. At least their spit wouldn't turn people into monsters.

She was just beginning to contemplate how many problems it would cause to escape as a dog when Henriksen came back out, his gaze serious. "Well then, let's find out who you are." He gave a fake smile to her. Alex's icy eyes glared back.

What? Like hell she'd be nice. With a bit of an attitude and a sneer in her face, Alex drawled in her British accent, sharpening it, "None of your bloody business is who I am."

His face hardened immediately. "That attitude won't help you here. You _do_ know what the Winchesters are being arrested for, don't you?"

Alex snorted. "What _aren't_ they being arrested for?" She rolled her eyes, then bared her teeth in a grin, letting her teeth sharpen just barely so that he eyed her suspiciously. "Listen here, you gormless piece of rubbish." He looked a bit confused by her choice of words, but she continued, not seeming to notice. "Things aren't always what they seem. So get out of my business. I'm not telling you my name, nor anything else about me."

Henriksen, having lost his patience with her in under five minutes, pinched the bridge of his nose and then waved for the policeman to enter the building. "Take her in, put her in the cell beside the Winchesters. Cuff her to the bars on the other side of the cell though."

"Got it." She was pushed forward and Alex craned her head back to give a final smirk before sighing heavily. She _really_ needed to stop encouraging such things... The skinwalker took a curious look at a few of the people within the office as they passed - particularly a panicked looking woman that was still clutching a rosary. Alex bit back a slightly hysterical smile; as if _rosary_ would help against her kind...

The second she was near the cells, her eyes were instinctively looking for her companions. Alex wrinkled her nose in greeting as both glanced up. Sam gave a small nod before going back to frowning thoughtfully at his hands. Dean only looked disappointed.

Annoyed with such a thing, Alex turned her face away. She'd waited until she was cuffed to the side of the barred cell and the door had been locked before twisting to face them, tucking her bare feet underneath to keep them warm. At least she could get out of the cuffs if necessary...and at least they weren't silver. When the three of them were left alone in the holding area, she spoke up.

"So...friends of you bloody idiots?"

"Friggin' shapeshifters," was all Dean said. Sam grumbled his agreement.

It didn't take long for Henriksen to re-enter the area, and Dean glanced up at him. Sam continued to look at his hands, lost in thought. It was then that Alex noticed they were chained together. "You know what I'm trying to decide?" Henriksen said suddenly.

Dean spoke up sarcastically. "I don't know. What? Whether Cialis will help you with your little condition?"

"What to have for dinner tonight." Henriksen gave just the slightest little smirk, and Alex noted how they didn't even look her way. He could have cared less for her; Sam and Dean were his primary concerns. "Steak or lobster, what the hell, surf and turf. I got a lot to celebrate. I mean, after all, seeing you two in chains..."

"Well you're a kinky one, aren't you?" Alex bit out, tugging at her cuffed wrist. The handcuffs clinked against the bars, and Henriksen glanced her way.

"That's funny," he commented. "Don't think we've forgotten about you, lady. We'll get information out of you somehow. And trust me. We _will_ get what we need."

Alex kindly called him a name that would have made her currently peaceful brother cover his daughters' ears.

"You know, I wouldn't just bust out the melted butter yet." Dean spoke confidently, smirking the entire time as he rocked back on his heels and crossed his arms. His green eyes gleamed dangerously. "Couldn't catch us at the bank. Couldn't keep us in that jail."

"You're right." Henriksen's attention was back on them. "Screwed up. I underestimated you. I didn't count on you - especially you, Dean - being that smart, but now I'm ready."

"Yeah, ready to lose us again?"

"Ready like a court order to keep you in a super-maximum prison in Nevada til trial. Ready like isolation in a soundproof, windowless cell. Between you and me...it'll probably be considered unconstitutional." He grinned, looking proud of himself. "How's that for ready?"

"I think you're overdoing it," Alex snapped. She was ignored, but felt the need to continue with her input by adding, "Twat."

She _really_ didn't like this man.

"Take a good look at Sam; you two will never see each other again." Henriksen's grin grew broader as they looked up at him in shock. "Where's that smug smile, Dean? I want to see it."

Dean's amusement had long since faded. "You've got the wrong guys, Henriksen." He looked away, shaking his head. "You've got the wrong guys."

"Oh, yeah." Henriksen threw his head back and laughed. "You fight monsters." Alex gawked; he _knew_ and he didn't believe them? Bastard. "Sorry, Dean. Truth is, your daddy brainwashed you with all that devil talk and no doubt touched you in a bad place. That's all, that's reality."

Dean gritted his teeth, looking ready to deck the one before them in the face. Sam simply remained emotionless, not moving from where he was seated. "Why don't you shut your mouth?" he growled.

"Well guess what? Life sucks. Get a helmet." His gaze flicked to Alex for the briefest of moments when she tensed, yanking fiercely at her cuffed wrist so that Sam and Dean both glanced her way. "'Cause everyone's got a sob story, but not everybody becomes a killer." Henriksen glanced at his watch as the skinwalker mumbled something about a helicopter under her breath. "And now I have two less to worry about."

He left again to go deal with who had arrived and Alex let out a soft huff. "You two don't seem very concerned."

"Gotten away a few times. Despite what he says, he's not too good." Sam finally spoke up, his dark eyes serious as he studied the way she'd been cuffed to the cell. "Can't you slip out of that?"

"I could, but it'd take too long to explain why I was fixing clothes by the time they came back along with getting out of it. Plus, I have an advantage, and I don't want to use it before they know about it." Aex glanced towards the door. She pressed her lips together.

Dean ran a hand down his face, looking fairly annoyed. "Hate that fu-"

They were interrupted when the door opened again and a man stepped in. He studied them for a moment, then introduced, "Sam and Dean Winchester. I'm Deputy Director Steven Groves. This is a pleasure."

"Well, glad one of us feels that way," Dean muttered.

"I've been waiting for a long time for you two to come out of the woodwork."

And just like that, he'd pulled a gun out and shot Dean. Dean grunted in surprise, staring at the wall that was now splattered with his blood in shock. Sam swore and dove forward, struggling to get the gun away from Steven from between the bars, and then Alex was there trying to help him, snarling and snapping at the heels near her with her muzzle shoved between the bars. Saliva spattered the floor as she snapped her teeth enough that they clicked painfully against each other.

The scent of sulfur filled her nose.

"Sam!" she screeched, shifting back, "Demon." She scrambled for her clothes, knowing without a doubt that others would be coming soon enough and despite the situation and usual lack of embarrassment over loss of clothing, she didn't want to be seen in such a way.

Sam opened his mouth to begin an exorcism, but was cut off. "Sorry," Steven sneered with black eyes. "Got to cut this short. It's gonna be a long night, fellas."

Alex turned her gaze away as the demon suddenly left the man's body with a scream, the black smoke leaving through a vent in the ceiling. Instead, she demanded, "Winchester?"

"M'fine," he gritted out, clutching his shoulder with a furious look on his face.

Henriksen and another man entered the room, the door banging against the wall in their rush. Henriksen immediately pointed a gun at Sam and Sam moved back instinctively as two more filtered in. "Put the gun down!" one of the men - Melvin, if Alex's hearing was correct - snapped.

"Wait, okay, wait," Sam hastily said, then added when Melvin accused him of shooting Steven, "I didn't shoot him!"

"If anything," Dean snarled, "He shot me!"

"Get on your knees!" Henriksen ordered. Alex kept back, not wanting to be on the receiving side of a bullet. Sam handed the gun over through the bars willing careful as he hastily said, "Don't shoot, we didn't shoot him. Check the body. There's no blood. We did _not_ kill him."

"Check him," Henriksen ordered.

Another man - Reidy - checked Steven's body with a panicked expression and reported, "There's no bullet wound."

"Poor bastard's been dead for months more than likely," Alex muttered.

"What did you do to him?" Henriksen demanded, refusing to move his gun.

"We didn't do anything," Dean argued.

"Talk, or I shoot."

"You won't believe us."

"He was possessed," Sam tried, carefully stepping closer to his brother.

"Possessed?" Henriksen snorted. "Right. Fire up the chopper! We're taking them out of here now."

"Bloody hell, you're morons," Alex told them when Reidy tried to get an answer out of the walkie talkie. Henriksen nodded for him to check outside, and Mevlin and the last man, whose name was Phil, kept their guns aimed. Henriksen's turned on Alex.

"How'd you get out of your cuff?" he demanded as soon as he'd realized she was on the wrong side of the cell.

Definitely not helping her situation, Alex wiggled her fingers with wide eyes. "Magic."

"They're dead," Reidy's voice suddenly cackled over the device that hung at Henriksen's hip. "I think they're all dead." There was a blast, and when Henriksen demanded answers, nothing came in response but screams.

From where she was currently pressed with her back against the wall of the cell, Alex listened intently to the conversation going on outside of the room, her hand just barely brushing over her blade. Thank God they didn't know it was there. Otherwise, she would have had no weapon against what was going on.

As far as Alex could figure out, Nancy was trying to make contact with the outside world, Henriksen was trying to convince everyone to stay calm, Melvin was demanding to know about his men, and the others were trying to figure out what was going on.

And then the lights shut off.

Alex looked up, then mumbled her agreement when Dean commented, standing beside Sam, "That can't be good."

A few moments later, they were joined - once again - by Henriksen. By that point, Sam had begun to help Dean deal with the gunshot wound, and Alex was on her feet, her fingers tracing the hilt of her blade. Dean swore softly, and Sam muttered, "Don't be such a wuss, Dean."

"What's the plan?" They all looked up when Henriksen spoke. "Kill everyone in the station? Bust you three out?"

"The bloody hell are you talking about?" Alex demanded, her blue eyes sharp. She shoved a hand through her red-blonde hair, shaking her head. "They're not here to help us, you fool. Probably want to kill us, or at least those two."

"You've got to believe us," Sam said quietly. "Everyone here is in terrible danger."

"You think?" Henriksen said with a short laugh.

"Why don't you let us out of here so we can save your asses?" Dean snapped impatiently, pressing his hand harder down over the bloody toilet paper covering his wound.

"From what?" Henriksen raised his gun to the air, pointing at the vent in the ceiling. "Don't you dare say "demons". Let me tell you something: you should be a hell of a lot more scared of me."

When he'd left, Alex demanded, "How's your shoulder, Winchester?"

"Didn't know you cared," he said sarcastically, "But thanks, it's awesome." He removed the toilet paper, ignoring the red stain on his shirt. "I'll live...you know, if we get out of here alive. So either of you got a plan?" Sam carefully inspected the injury, taking in the exit wound, and then glanced up when he said quietly, "Hey."

Alex's eyes were already focused on the woman hanging near the door, her eyes full of fear.

Sam immediately moved closer to the bars, but only just barely. "Uh, please. We need your help. It's...it's Nancy, right?" She said nothing, her gaze darting to the other two in fear. "Nancy, my brother's been shot. He's bleeding really bad. You think maybe you could get us a towel? Please? Just one clean towel?" She shifted nervously, uncertain. "Look. Look at us, Nancy. We're not the bad guys, I swear."

Dean tried to give an encouraging smile, then huffed when she left. "Nice try."

"Oi," Alex said suddenly, nodding towards the door. Sam smiled brightly when he realized that Nancy had come back, this time holding a clean towel. Her dark eyes shone with her nervousness, and she approached silently, cautious.

Alex snorted to herself. Honestly, how stupid could people get? Did she honestly think they'd hurt her? ... _scratch that, I dunno what inside info they have on these morons..._

Suddenly, Sam grabbed the woman's arm and dragged her screaming self up against the bars. Within seconds, Phil was bolting into the room, eyes flashing with anger as he pointed his rifle. Dean froze, and Alex scampered to her feet nervously as he ordered, "Let her go!"

Sam quickly released her, and Nancy scampered away, terrified. Phil asked if she was alright, looking concerned as she nodded hesitantly, and then warned, "Try something again, and you'll get shot. Not in the arm, either."

Sam didn't look the least bit concerned. "Alright."

When they were gone, Dean glared at his brother. "The hell was that, Sam?" He kept the towel Nancy had fetched for him pressed against the wound, annoyed when Sam held up a string of rosary - the same rosary they'd all seen upon entering. "Better safe than sorry," he admitted in agreement.

Alex's blade flickered for a moment as she leaned against the bars. "There's got to be at least one or two out there...they could be possessing anyone. Anyone could just...walk right in, and they're out there, faffing about!"

"It's kind of wild, right?" Dean grinned, looking up at the ceiling. "I mean, it's like they're after _us_. Never done that before. Think it's 'cause we're so awesome? I think it's 'cause we're so awesome."

Alex gave him a strange look while Sam looked just plain un-amused. "The pain getting to your head, Winchester?" He made a face in response.

"Well, howdy there, Sheriff," he said instead when Melvin entered. Alex's sniffed furiously at the man's scent and then shrugged when she found she couldn't figure if he was a demon or not. The smell of sulfur had been in the building from the second they'd entered, she realized now. No wonder she hadn't recognized the demon.

When Melvin opened the door to the Winchester's cell, however, Alex hesitantly stepped forward, grasping the bars of her own cell. Dean and Sam exchanged a look, stepping back as Melvin said gravely, "It's time to go, boys."

"Uh...you know what?" Dean exchanged a wary look with Alex. "We're comfy right here. But thanks."

"What do you think you're doing?"

Alex's eyes grew wide. The smell of sulfur was suddenly a hell of a lot stronger. She snapped her fingers as Melvin turned to speak to Henriksen, and Sam glanced her way as she mouthed the word "demon". His eyes darkened.

"We're not just gonna sit around here and wait to die," Mevlin bit out. "We're gonna make a run for it."

"It's safer here," Henriksen argued.

"There's a SWAT facility not far from here!"

Dean and Sam both took a few more steps back when Henriksen decided to enter their cell. "We're not going anywhere."

"The hell we're not!"

 _Bam!_

Alex gave a surprised shriek when Henriksen's gun went off. Mevlin went down, blood pouring from his head, and the Winchesters leaped into action. Dean grabbed the gun while Sam proceeded to shove the man's head into the toilet and start an exorcism. Alex yanked her blade free in an instant when Phil came back with his rifle.

"Stay back!" Dean warned. Alex flinched when Henrisken practically screamed, smoke drifting off of his face. Sam swore and shoved him back in, continuing without pause as Nancy hesitantly came to see what was happening.

"Hurry up!" Alex urged, unable to do much with her cell door locked.

When Henriksen's face came up again, his eyes gleamed a deadly black. "It's too late," he taunted. "I already called them. They're already coming."

Alex narrowed her eyes as they watched Sam finish the exorcism. Black smoke shot from his mouth and went back up the vent as the man crumpled. Sam, panting desperately for breath didn't hesitate to pat around on Melvin's body for the keys. Alex was eternally grateful when he came over and unlocked her cell door as well. "Thanks," she told him, stepping out and putting her blade away. Both returned to the first cell as Henriksen groaned.

"Henriksen!" Sam said, "Hey! Is that you in there"

Henriksen sat up with startled eyes, gawking at his hands for a moment before looking up. "I...I shot the Sheriff..."

There was a moment of silence, and then Dean grinned. "But you didn't shoot the Deputy."

Alex gave him a look. "Really, Winchester?"

He shrugged. "Had to do it."

She smacked him on his injured shoulder and he swore doubling over for a moment.

"Five minutes ago, I was fine," Henriksen breathed. "And then-"

"Let me guess," Dean rasped as he straightened. "Some nasty black smoke jammed itself down your throat?"

Sam was a bit more sympathetic as he explained, "You were possessed."

Henriksen looked astonished. "Possessed like...possessed."

"And now you know," Alex said smugly. "You honestly think stuff like this doesn't happen? Bloody idiot is what you are."

"I'm owed the biggest "I told you so" ever!" Dean crowed. Alex followed that up by smacking him on the shoulder again before muttering something only he could hear. By the way he tensed, Sam had the feeling it had something to do with a sensitive part that should never be touched unless it was because of special circumstances.

"Alright," Henriksen said hesitantly as Sam removed his and Dean's chains. "How do we survive?"

* * *

"Well, that's nice. It's not gonna do much good."

Alex rolled her eyes at Dean's sarcasm towards the two men preparing guns. She, as of currently, was working on drawing some devil's traps on the floor alongside Sam. While he was using spray paint, she'd been left to finger paint with some leftover paint, and she was partially irritated with this. Why'd _she_ have to use her fingers? Nancy was busy helping patch up Dean's shoulder.

Alex hoped it hurt. Especially when he began to argue with Phil and Henriksen about what would work against the demons.

"Trust us," she said sharply, cutting off all of them. "We'll need salt. Lots of salt, at every door and every window. I've got my blade, so that'll do us some good, too."

Henriksen stared at her. "You don't have a blade. We would have taken it if you'd had some kind of weapon on you-"

Alex rolled her eyes and yanked her weapon free of its invisible bindings with the hand not covered in, twirling it between her fingers so that the metal glinted in the dim light. "Questions?"

Apparently he'd learned to finally just accept some things, because he merely shook his head and turned away.

"That should hold," Nancy said suddenly, pulling back after placing just one more final piece of tape to the binding she'd created for Dean's shoulder. She smiled faintly. He thanked her, then climbed to his feet as Phil returned with a couple bags of rock salt in his grasp.

"Where's my car?" Dean demanded.

Sam and Alex rolled their eyes after exchanging a look. Only Dean would ask about his car in a situation like this. Phil told him that it was the impound lot out behind the station, then asked when Dean turned away, "Wait...you're not going out there?"

"Yeah," the eldest Winchester said, frowning. "Gotta get some stuff out of my trunk."

"You can't go alone," Sam protested, pausing in what he was doing to glance up. "Even if they haven't come banging on the door just yet, Dean, you need someone with you. There's more than likely going to be dozens of them, maybe even hundreds."

"I got it," Alex offered, jumping to her feet. The skinwalker reached for a towel, wiping her hand as clean as she could get it. "Finish up with that one and start on another over in that corner. We should be good after that."

"You sure?" Sam questioned, ignoring Dean's sputtered protest.

"Positive," she replied, smirking at his brother's annoyed look. "Stop pouting, and let's go, Winchester. We don't have time to faff around now."

"No shit," he grumbled, then waved for her to follow as he started for the door.

They made their way outside, hurrying to make their way around the side of the building and to the impound lot. The wind had picked up, and the lights around them flickered violently. Alex's gaze hardened as they rushed to the Impala after Dean had opened the gate, and she joined him in shoving things into a bag, reaching only for her own items after he'd opened the trunk. "Shite," she muttered when a stream of smoke screamed past, lightning following it.

She zipped her bag up, then hissed, "Hurry!"

"You didn't have to come," he snarled in response, then shoved her harshly towards the building when another stream of smoke came flying at them. "Go! Go!" She stumbled, but caught her balance and scampered forward, Dean hot on her tail as they made their way back into the police station. Both were heaving for air by the time they'd returned to where the others were.

"They're coming," Dean grunted, throwing something to Sam. Sam caught the water gun - only Alex didn't stare in confusion - and tucked into his pocket.

"Holy water burns them," was all he said before his head snapped around in time to witness a thick ball of smoke hit a window. Nancy screamed in fear and Dean tossed an actual gun to his brother. Sam glanced at Alex. "Got what you need?"

"Yep," she answered, quickly sliding on her gloves and readying a weapon. It was still filled with silver bullets from their last hunt, and she didn't have time to change them out. "I'm good. Got my blade, got my gun...anything else _they_ need?"

Before Dean or Sam could answer her, the lights that had come back on while they were outside flickered again before going out. Smoke suddenly covered every window, and Nancy clutched the cross she wore around her neck in her hands with white knuckles. The building shook and Alex glared as dust fell on them. Suddenly, the smoke left, and it was silent.

"Everybody okay?" Sam called, glancing around as if he was counting children on a field trip.

"Define "okay"," Henriksen said tightly, his voice just barely shaking.

"Everybody needs to put these on," Dean said suddenly, holding up a strange necklace to show what he meant. Alex curiously studied them; she certainly hadn't seen them before. She made a note to ask about where to get them later. "They'll keep you from being possessed. Here." He went to work on handing them out, glancing back when Nancy questioned about the trio of hunters.

Sam and Dean proceeded to yank down their collars, showing the anti-possession symbol tattooed on their chests, and Alex couldn't help but silently appreciate the barely revealed flesh on a certain green-eyed Winchester. "Smart," Henriksen commented. "How long you had those?"

"Not long enough," Sam said gravely, then turned to Alex. "What about you?"

Alex smiled darkly. "Um...yeah, you see, not all of us have the brilliant idea to brand ourselves, and the moron only grabbed enough for them. I'll be fine. If I know something's gonna happen, I'll just drink my little bottle here," she reassured, holding up a water bottle of holy water. "Just...be ready to drive my knife into me, got it?"

"Damn it, woman!" Dean snapped impatiently, rolling his eyes to the sky as if in prayer before focusing on the situation at hand.

"Hey," Nancy said suddenly. She'd gone to organize a few things, as if such busywork would help her, and she'd glanced up to discover a crowd outside of the police station. "That's...that's Jenna Rubner."

"Not her anymore," Alex replied, moving to join her at the window. The skinwalker appeared to be calm - not that she really was. _Bloody hell, we're screwed if this is what we're dealing with_. "Looks like we know where all the demons hid themselves." She turned away, and went to join Dean and Henriksen, who'd begun to fill shotguns with salt-filled shells.

"Fighting off monsters with condiments," Henriksen muttered as he removed his tie and tossed it over his shoulder. "So turns out you were right. Demons are real." He muttered a soft thanks to Alex as she began handing shells to Dean the pair, her hands still clad in black leather gloves.

"FYI, ghosts are real, too." Dean examined a dented shell, then tossed it to the side, holding his hand out for another one. Alex dropped it into his palm. "So are werewolves, vampires, changelings, evil clowns that eat people."

"Okay then."

"Bigfoot doesn't exist," Alex mused, handing him a shell. "That would probably be a wendigo...give me nightmares, those ones. Chupacabras exist, too."

"So...how many demons?" Henriksen set his gun aside and Alex, realizing they weren't in any more need of the shotgun shells, stepped back and swept her hair into a ponytail, a few strands falling into her face.

"Total?" Dean shook his head. "No clue. A lot."

Henriksen was quiet for a moment, then grumbled, "My job is so boring, it's frustrating. You work three years for one break, and then _maybe_ you save a few people. _Maybe_. That's the payoff." He crossed his arms tightly across his chest, scowling. "I've been busting my ass for fifteen years to nail a handful of guys-"

"Two of which were innocent," Dean commented thoughtfully, earning a scolding look from the skinwalker for interrupting.

"-and all this while, there's something in the corner. Something so big it's ridiculous. Sign me up for that big frosty mug of wasting my damn life."

"You didn't know," Alex said gently, surprisingly sympathetic. "And trust me...you'd rather not know. Not many hunters sign up for this life. I sure as hell didn't, and I doubt these two idiots did either."

He shrugged, then questioned, "What's out there? Can you beat it? Can you win?"

"Honestly, I think the world' gonna end in a bloody friggin' way," Dean told him, giving a tight smile. "But it doesn't mean we shouldn't fight. We do have choices, and ya know something? I choose to go down swingin'."

"Plus you got nothing to go home to but your brother," Henriksen muttered. Alex grumbled about being ignored and turned her face the other way - until he sighed heavily, "Empty apartment, string of angry ex-wives...I'm right where you are."

Shattering glass caught all of their attention, and Dean bolted for the sound. Sam went in afterwards alongside Henriksen, and Alex yanked her blade free as she followed them in. "Phil, Nancy, stay here," she ordered, accent sharp in her caution.

When she stepped to Sam's side, she just about moaned in her desperation. "C'mon," she whined, "Don't we have enough bitches on our tail?"

The demon trapped within the devil's trap gave her a dirty look. "Oh, shut up, you mongrel."

"How do we kill her?" a wary Henriksen demanded, gun raised. There was the sound of the safety of his gun clicking off, and Sam shoved it downwards before he could fire it.

"We don't," he told him, then moved to scratch a bit of the devil's trap off. Henriksen gaped, demanding to know why they were letting a demon in, but Ruby cut him off.

"And they say chivalry's dead," she muttered. "Does anyone have a breath mint? Some guts splattered in my mouth while I was killing my way in here." Ruby pushed her way, shooting Alex a sneer when she commented on the amount of breath mints it would take to help.

"Fix the salt line," Sam told her, exasperated, then went to follow Ruby. Dean shot her a look and she nodded curtly to show her she understood as he led Henriksen out.

She'd plant her blade in the demon's back if she tried anything.

Alex quickly spread the salt out, checking to make sure it wasn't broken this time before making sure the devil's trap was fixed as well. Stepping back to admire her work, Alex wasted no time in scrambling to rejoin everyone. Being alone wasn't a smart plan when demons were looking for a way to kill you.

"So many," she mused as she passed a window.

By the time she'd stepped back into the main room, Dean was in a pissy mood and Sam was surprisingly quiet and ashamed looking, his dark eyes looking at his feet as Dean snarled, "You knew about this? Well, gee, Sam, is there anything else I should know?"

"What do we know?" Alex demanded, looking to Dean for an answer since she doubted Sam was unlikely to answer.

"There's a new crazy bitch in town by the name of Lilith," he gritted out, looking furious. "And she wants to get Sam out of the way 'cause he's apparently her rival."

"Rival in _what_?"

"Leading some demons," was all she got in response. The skinwalker cast Sam a startled look, then focused on Ruby when the demon growled, "How about we talk about this later? We'll need the Colt."

While the Winchesters avoided looking at her, Alex said bluntly, "Two states over with someone who matches you in the bitch level."

"I'm sorry," Ruby drawled, gaze hardening. "I must have blood in my ear. I thought I just heard you say that you were stupid enough to let the Colt get snatched out of your hands. Fantastic!" She threw her hands up. "This is just peachy!" When Sam tried to break in, she glared at him. "Shut up. Fine. Since I don't see that there's any other option... There's one other way I know how to get you out of here alive."

"And what's that?" Dean huffed.

"I know a spell." Ruby's gaze snapped around the room, as if she was counting how many people were present. "It'll vaporize every demon in a one-mile radius, myself included. So, you let the Colt out of your sight and now I have to die. So next time...be more careful. How's that for a dying wish?"

Alex tried to swallow her glee; no more Ruby after this! She honestly detested the demon and trusted nothing she said. "So what do you need to do?"

"This spell is very specific." Ruby locked gazes with the skinwalker, who curled her lip warningly. "It calls for a person of virtue."

Alex grinned, holding her hands out smugly. "Sorry, love," she said tauntingly. "Lookin' at the wrong girl. Got plenty of experience under my belt." Dean's eyes darted her way, and she smirked, eyes twinkling. "What, you truly think I would be a virgin? Damn, Winchester, you're more daft than I thought."

Ruby looked disappointed, then turned her gaze on Nancy. Dean followed her gaze and gawked. "No," he protested. "No way. You're-"

"What?" Nancy said defensively. "It's a choice." Dean stammered, astonished, until Alex mused on sure he could find another use for his time when they were at risk of being killed as of recently. "So...this spell. What can I do?"

"You can hold still while I cut your heart out of your chest." Ruby spoke bluntly, glancing at Alex when the skinwalker gave a dangerous growl, just daring her to try it. "Oh, shut up. I'm offering a solution."

"You're offering to kill someone," Dean said, shaking his head in disapproval.

"And what do you think's gonna happen to this girl when the demons get in?" Ruby challenged, glaring around at them all. Look, you're all gonna die. This is the only way."

"There's no way-"

Henriksen's argument was cut off when Nancy snapped, "Would everybody please shut up?!" They cast startled looks her way and she huffed before demanding, "All the people out there...will it save them." Ruby nodded cautiously, and she took a deep breath before saying grimly, "I'll do it."

" _No_ ," Alex snarled, readying her blade. Ruby shifted uneasily, and Sam moved to grab Alex's wrist before she could do anything. "Don't touch me," she spat at him, furious. "You're _agreeing_ to this? What kind of idiot are you, moose boy?"

"My friends," Nancy said softly. "They're all out there."

"We do not sacrifice people," Henriksen said confidently. "We do that, and we're no better than them."

"What he said," Phil said faintly.

"We don't have a choice...Sam, you know I'm right." Ruby turned her attention on the youngest Winchester, and Alex's growl became thunderous.

Dean looked expectantly at his brother. Surely Sam wouldn't agree with her...right? "Sam?" Sam said nothing, and his hesitant smile vanished while Alex's eyes grew dark. "What the hell, man? Tell her!

"It's my decision."

"Damn straight, cherry pie," Ruby said in agreement to Nancy's insisting.

Dean did a little arm flail that would have made Alex laugh in any other situation. "God damn it, just stop for a second! Nobody's killing any virgins! Sam, I need to talk to you." Alex moved to step forward and he glared at her. "Alone. Stay." He smirked at that.

"You bloody-" Alex cut herself off, giving a scowl. "Fine," she growled, "I'll watch the demon. Just be prepared..." She smiled at Ruby with a harsh look on her face. "She pisses me off too much and I'm driving my blade between her shoulder blades. Got it?"

Ruby was the only one not doing anything, and the only one who wasn't determined to make their way work.

It turned out that Dean had convinced his brother - after a small argument about saving people, apparently - that fighting their way out would be the only way to do it, and for that they were grateful.

Nobody wanted Nancy dead.

 _Nobody_.

Except for maybe Ruby.

"So this is insane," Sam commented aloud as he pressed his lips together, peering through a window at the crowd of demons waiting outside.

"You win "understatement of the year"," Ruby drawled, rolling her eyes.

"Look," Dean said impatiently, "I get it, you think-"

"I don't think, I know." Ruby glared at the eldest brother, as if blaming him. Dean only grinned; he was to blame, and he was proud of it rather than disappointed in himself. If it saved the people helping them... "It's not going to work. So long, boys. Freak."

Alex, who'd been carefully sharpening her knife, glanced up and glared at her for that. "See ya later, twat - not," she said with a sneer in response.

"Wait," Sam protested, turning to face the demon. "You're just gonna leave?"

Ruby glared at him in response, crossing her arms after impatiently shoving blonde hair out of her face. "Hey, i was gonna kill myself to help you win. I'm not gonna stand here and watch you lose. And I'm disappointed because I tried. I really did, but clearly, I bet on the wrong horse. Do you mind letting me out?"

* * *

"Does she think we give a damn?" Alex grumbled as she examined the sharpness of her blade. She quickly tested the sharpness against the flesh of her finger, wincing when smoke curled off of it.

Definitely sharp enough, she thought, popping the nicked finger into her mouth.

"Alex!" Sam called. "Get your door!"

"Got it!" she called back. She shoved what she'd been using to sharpen her blade into her pocket and readied the weapon before breaking the salt line in front of the door she'd been put in charge with. She wouldn't kill anyone, but she could sure as hell stab them to keep them off of her. And she would if necessary. She heard the others go to work, readying themselves before opening their own area.

She hoped Nancy and Phil were ready, too, she decided as she put her blade away and reached for her gun, because it was up to them to make sure the demons didn't escape.

There was a heartbeat of silence.

And then the demons were there.

Alex swore loudly as a demon barreled through the doors at her, snarling under his breath. She braced herself, rolling with him when he slammed into her, and scrambled for the holy water in her pocket. She doused the demon's face in it, and he screamed, rolling away so that another could take his place. Alex simply turned and vaulted over a table. She couldn't handle more than two at once by herself.

She came across Dean, who ordered, "Go!"

She knew exactly what that meant.

Alex bolted for where the audio room, where Henriksen was supposed to be in charge of playing an exorcism. When she crashed through the door, she discovered the man grappling with a demon. "Hold on," she called to him, and then scrambled to hit the play button on their recording.

Sam's voice came over the speakers. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii..." The exorcism continued to play, and Alex whirled around to help Henriksen. She winced as the demon raked sharpened nails down her arm, leaving scratches that no normal human would have been able to make. She ignored the blood that trickled down her flesh in favor of pinning him down, ordering Henriksen to help her.

Alex could hear the screaming of demons, and she winced at the sound. Finally, she simply gave up on using her humanoid strength and within seconds there was a large wolf-dog practically sitting on the demon's chest to get it to remain where it was. Henriksen gaped at her, but she pretended not to notice, growling in frustration as the demon gave her a bruising smack to the face before black smoke began to pour from his mouth.

And then, as the exorcism finished, there was a flash of light.

The man went limp.

Alex stepped off of the unconscious man and gathered up her clothes with a huff. "So...you're a werewolf or something like that?"

Alex snorted. Just what the hell had come out recently to make him think _that_? She flicked her tail, then went to hunt down the Winchesters, padding over to stand beside Sam. Henriksen wasn't far behind. Alex wrinkled her nose at the crazy amount of sulfur in the room.

"Okay?" Sam questioned, glancing at her. She gave a curt nod, then sneezed. And then sneezed a few more times.

Dean grinned.

"I better call in," Henriksen muttered. "Hell of a story I won't be telling."

"What are you gonna tell them?" Sam asked as he took Alex's clothes for her.

"I'm gonna kill you," Henriksen simply answered, shaking his head. "Sam and Dean Winchester and their accomplice," he paused, glancing at Alex, who only shrugged her massive shoulders. Technically, it was what she was. "Were in the chopper when it caught on fire. Nothing left. Can't even identify them with dental records." He grinned. "Rest in peace, guys."

Dean was the first to offer a hand to shake. "Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah, not get out of here," Henriksen answered after shaking Sam's as well. He paused, however, when he turned to Alex. "...hold on a sec, what is she?"

"Alex?" Dean smirked, but before he could answer, Sam cut in, saving his brother from a world of pain that he was sure Alex would deliver.

"Alex is a skinwalker," Sam explained, "She can take this form on as well as her humanoid form. She's got some amplified senses and whatnot, but...that's the gist of it."

"...okay." Henriksen didn't bother to question it, and then waved them off after hesitantly patting Alex's shoulder in farewell. She didn't growl, only waved her tail once and then trotted after the Winchesters.

But when they reached the car and after she'd tugged on a fresh set of clothes, she didn't climb in. Instead, Alex yanked on a shoe and mused, "I'm gonna run off for a bit. You two bloody fools going to be alright without me?"

Sam turned on his heel to frown at her. "What do you mean you're going to run off? You're leaving?"

Alex smiled broadly. "Aw," she crooned. "Going to miss me? Don't worry, I'll meet up with you again soon. I want to check in on Matt and his family." She paused as she shouldered her duffel bag, then dropped her voice. "I'm worried. If demons and others are out to kill you like _this_ , and I've been hanging around..."

"Sure, sure," Dean said quickly, his green eyes surprisingly serious. Alex had thought he would have brought out the beer in celebration. Instead, he reached out and - smirking in the process - ruffled her hair. She scowled as she tried to fix it. "We'll check in with Bobby. Where's this brother of your's at?"

Alex scrunched her nose up in thought. "He lives in a suburban area near Denver. "

"Good, we can meet up somewhere in Nebraska," Sam decided. "We'll catch you in a few days, then."

"I'll call you when I get there, we'll figure out where and when to meet," Alex agreed, and then smiled brightly. "I'll see you around, Sam." She patted his arm affectionately, then shot Dean a look. "See ya, Winchester." He only waved her off, as if he didn't care.

"C'mon, Sam. Gotta go see Bobby..."

* * *

 _Another quick chapter...:D_


	10. Trouble in Denver

**|February 24, 2008|**

Alex rolled her shoulders happily as she climbed out of her stolen vehicle, making a face as she realized she would have to figure out a decent place to dump it soon. Preferably before the police came after her.

...she'd do that in the morning.

For now, it was seven in the evening, and after driving for as long as she had, she was ready to eat and see her brother and his family. Matt didn't have a clue that she was coming of course. And she'd have to be careful that his daughters didn't overhear anything she said, as he was determined to keep their minds clean of what really happened in the news half of the time. His wife, a woman by the name of Karyssa, knew though, so that gave her _someone_ to talk to if Matt refused to cooperate.

"Hm," Alex muttered to herself as she headed towards the beautiful brick house her family called home. "I hope they have that guest room open..." She took the steps that led to the carefully decorated porch two at a time, tugging her leather jacket tighter around her as a brisk wind blew through.

Damn, it was cold.

Puffing out a sigh, Alex knocked sharply at the door.

It took a few minutes, but the door finally opened to reveal a pretty young woman, with long auburn hair and sharp blue eyes that rivaled the sky. Then again, Karyssa's eyes were amplified by contacts and eyeliner. The woman stared at her for a moment, and then grinned hugely. "Alex!"

Alex laughed when the older woman tackled her in a tight hug. "Hullo, Ryss," she greeted, eagerly returning the hug. She hadn't had one in a while. When she pulled back, Alex waggled her eyebrows. "Miss me?"

"Of course," Ryss said affectionately. She glanced over her shoulder. "Matt _just_ got off of work," she said excitedly. "The girls are with him out back."

"Got it," Alex said cheerfully. She waited until Ryss had stepped aside to step into the house. "Hope you guys don't mind having company for a few days? Some...things have come up and I want to make sure you're all safe."

Ryss' eyes flashed with concern. "You think we're in danger?"

"I don't know," Alex admitted, gently patting her sister-in-law's shoulder. "I'll make sure everything's safe just to make sure...I have a pair of idiots I've been teaming up with recently. Let's just say they're not too well liked by very many people. Demons, actually. And every other creature on the planet." Alex sighed heavily. "I regret it sometimes. But they're a bunch of bloody morons that faff around too much and need someone to make sure they don't get themselves into any more trouble than they already are." She paused. "I haven't done very well at stopping them, I'm realizing. One of 'em's friends with a demon. The other's currently got a one-way ticket to Hell. And they're both males who can't stop and think."

Ryss laughed. "Men are stupid. I still have issues with Matt on occasion." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then waved for Alex to follow her. "Dump your bag on the couch or something, you can set yourself up in your room later, okay?"

"Understood," the skinwalker answered, rolling her shoulders as she simply dropped the bag on the couch. She followed Ryss through the neatly cleaned house to the back door, and Alex's gaze softened as she took in the sight of her older brother playfully wrestling with his daughters in the grass. He didn't look up when Ryss opened the door and stepped outside, but one of the girls did.

Her blue eyes lit up. "Aunt Alex!" she screamed in excitement, practically flying at her aunt. Alex laughed as she caught the seven year old, hoisting her up into her arms.

"Hey, love," she said affectionately, hugging her. "How are you?"

She giggled at her aunt's accent. "You still sound funny, Aunt Alex."

"I know, I know," Alex sighed dramatically, "I'm working on it. And hello to you, too, Tess." Her other niece had come over and hugged her legs, and Alex smiled warmly at the four year old before lifting her gaze to smile brightly at Matt. "Hey, Matt."

"Look who finally decided to come visit," Matt drawled. His accent had long since vanished. It happened after living in America since the age of six. Unlike Alex, who'd been declared officially dead after she'd disappeared to live with another hunter, he'd been sent to stay with some of their extended family. The hunter she'd lived with had made sure to keep track of him until she was old enough to tell him about what had happened to her.

Alex gave a sheepish smile. "Yeah...sorry. Been a bit busy. Doing my best to make the world a better place. The usual."

Matt rolled his eyes. "I'm glad you're safe." He ruffled her hair. "Come on, let's go inside. I can see my children have decided they're done playing. Hm?" He scooped Tess up into his arms, then scolded the older of the two, "Hally, stop that."

Hally batted her eyelashes innocently at her father, dropping the necklace tied around Alex's neck. Alex patted the pendant with a tight smile. "Yes, let's _not_ ruin that, it's a rather lovely life-saving device." When Matt shot her a confused look, she explained. "Keeps me from getting possessed. New partners of mine have it tattooed on their chests. I need to get it done, too."

"Partners, huh?" he muttered, closing the back door behind them.

"Okay, girls," Ryss announced, deciding that the two needed to talk. "Say goodnight to Aunt Alex. You have school in the morning. It's bed time."

Tess looked at her mother with wide eyes. "I don't."

"But you need sleep," Ryss replied, taking her from Matt. "You, too, come along, Hally." Hally pouted as Alex put her down, but scampered to take her mother's hand.

Alex waited until she could hear their footsteps upstairs before speaking. "Yeah...bloody stupid partners." She rubbed the back of her head. "They went to South Dakota, we're meeting up in Nebraska in a few days." She sighed softly. "You spoke to one on the phone a while back. That was Dean. The other one is Sam. Winchester."

Matt's gaze sharpened. "Wait just a freaking second, Alex, those are the two fugitives that died in that explosion alongside all of those other people a few days ago, aren't they?"

"...uh..." Alex squinted at him. "Sort of? They're kinda wanted - were wanted - because of a shapeshifter. That's what they told me, anyways. A guy by the name of Henriksen told them they were free to go-"

"Henriksen?" Matt rubbed the back of his head. "He's dead, too." When Alex stared blankly at him, he said slowly, "Alex. I told you. A bunch of people were killed an explosion the other day...some police officers, some other staff, the sheriff, the deputy, even the secretary. And the three FBI agents that were there. They're all dead."

"...no they're not," Alex protested, bewildered. "Left them safe and sound a day or two back. They were perfectly fine, Matt."

"Alex," Matt groaned, then dug in his pocket. He pulled his phone out and screwed around with it for a few moments. He proceeded to hand it over, the news pulled up, and Alex's lips parted in absolute shock.

"What?" she breathed.

Sure enough, just as he'd said, there was headline that announced the deaths of the very people they'd fought so hard to save. It described the suspicious circumstances, and Alex scanned through the rest of the article before clenching her jaw and slapping the phone back into her brother's hand. "Give me a minute, I need to call some people..." She turned and stormed right back outside, tears pricking her eyes as she yanked her phone out.

Matt let her go without a word, his eyes serious.

Alex took a deep breath upon getting outside, closing the back door behind her. They'd fought so hard to protect them, to keep them safe...and now they were dead. Why?! How?! She was more worried about that last question, if she was being honest...

Alex gave it a few moments, and then reached for her own phone. She searched her contacts list for Sam's number - she didn't feel like dealing with Dean at the moment. He'd only serve to piss her off even more.

Sam answered after a few moments. "Hello?" he greeted, sounding rushed.

Alex hesitated before rasping, "Sam. S'Alex."

The rushed tone vanished. "...what's wrong? What happened? Everything alright?" There was the sound of other voices in the background. Alex decided they must have been with Bobby already, that it was him and Dean talking, and Sam hurried to add after a curtly asked question, "Is your brother okay?"

"Matt's fine, as is his family." Alex sighed heavily, running her fingers through her tangled hair with a grimace. She really needed to brush it. "Just...did you hear what happened? To Henriksen and Nancy and the others?"

There was a moment of silence on Sam's end, a demand, a moment of scuffling, and then Dean's voice was on the other end. "What do you mean what happened to them?"

Ah. They must have been on speaker. "They're dead."

Silence. And then- "Oh. That."

"What do you - _did you know about this and not let me know_?!" Alex screeched furiously. "People we helped _died_ and you didn't think to make sure I knew? What kind of bloody arses are you?!"

"On the idjits' behalf," came Bobby's gruff voice. "They honestly thought ya knew."

Alex scowled, gritting her teeth in frustration. "Well, I didn't. I didn't hear about it until I mentioned the names of you morons to Matt and he asked if you were two of the ones killed." She scrubbed a hand down her face. "What the hell was it? Do you know that much?"

"Lilith," Sam said grimly. "It was Lilith. Ruby was the one to tell us. She let us know who did it and gave us some hex bags that'll help keep us out of Lilith's radar. She gave us an extra one for you."

"Doubt it'll work," Alex mumbled. "Bitch." She moved on from that part of the conversation fairly quickly. "Damn...doesn't this suck."

"Sums the situation up," Dean agreed with a huff.

A moment of silence.

And then-

"How long you gonna be there?"

Alex was startled that out of the three on the other end of the call, it was Bobby who asked. Sam, she'd been expecting, maybe a short word from Dean, but not Bobby. "I plan on staying here for a few days at the very least...just to make sure nothing comes out of the night and kills what family I have left. Why?"

"Got a situation a few hours north of where you are now," Bobby told her. "Might be a demon, might not."

"Your point?" Alex said, arching an eyebrow and studying the massive oak tree in the backyard. She knew that her brother was impatiently waiting for her to come back inside, but she felt the need to know precisely what Bobby was wanting her to do. "I'm not leaving them to go and kill something."

"Don't need ya to kill nothing," Bobby replied. "Buddy of mine lives there. I want ya to check in on him. Hasn't returned any of my phone calls. The boys will meet you a few miles east of the place. Just do it on your way there, meet up with 'em in Wyoming or over on the western side of South Dakota."

"...I can do that," Alex agreed thoughtfully, nodding to herself. And she could. And she would. If Bobby was worried about one of his friends, she'd be more than willing to do it. "Just have Sam send me the information on where he lives, Mr. Singer. I'll check on him."

"Thanks."

"No problem." Alex smiled slightly to herself. Maybe they hadn't been able to save the ones at the station, but she'd do her damn hardest to save everyone that she could. "I'll call you when I've done so."

"Hey, Alex," Sam's voice suddenly said, and she focused on it. "Sorry 'bout not telling you."

Alex smiled to herself and shook her head. "Don't worry about it, you bloody idiot." And then she hung up. She shoved her phone back into her pocket and headed back inside, where Matt was waiting with an expectant look on his face. She cleared her throat before speaking. "They're aware of what happened as well...checking on another person's friend when I head out in a few days, though."

"Hm," was Matt's only response. He studied his sister's expression for a few moments, and then questioned her with a sigh. "Please tell me you're being careful?"

She gave him an offended look. "As if I wouldn't be. I'm always careful, stupid."

A smile flickered across his face for a second. "I'm sure you are."

* * *

 **|Februrary 25, 2008|**

Alex was happy to call the couch her bed. While the motel rooms she'd stayed in with the Winchesters didn't have the best of couches in them, she thoroughly enjoyed her brother's. It was expensive, leather, and so plushy, you sank into it fairly easily.

It was kind of frightening waking up to a child landing on your stomach first thing in the morning though, squealing, "Aunt Alex, get up!"

"I'm up, I'm up," she groaned, scrubbing at her eyes as she sat up, resting on her elbows. She smiled sleepily at her niece, who beamed excitedly at her. Tessa smiled brightly in response, showing off a hole where she'd lost a tooth. "Where's your parents and Hally?"

"Daddy's leaving for work and said to wake you up," Tessa reported. "Mommy said you'd watch me instead of the weird old lady next door. She went to take Hally to school."

"Weird old lady, huh?" Alex mused, ruffling the girl's hair. She scooped her up into her lap. "Well, you and I can walk to that place on the corner. We'll get some donuts, yes?"

"Yay!" Tessa squealed, kissing her cheek. "I'll go tell Daddy."

"No need, I heard," Matt called as he walked into the living room, working furiously on rolling his sleeves up. He worked for a rather large hospital, though Alex had never worked at remembering what he was. A doctor, she thought. "Here," he said, tossing something to his sister. Alex caught it, studying the was of cash. "Some money. To pay for whatever you guys do today. Ryss is going to run a few errands, so go ahead and do whatever you want."

"Thanks," Alex said, her eyes sparkling at the sight of the money. She'd make sure to save some of it for an emergency stash. Matt didn't need to know. She pocketed it after standing, telling Tessa, "Come on. We'll get some breakfast and then go shopping. How does that sound to you?"

"Good," Tessa said happily. "Can I get a new toy?"

"Of course, love," Alex crooned, brushing Tessa's hair out of her face. Tessa kissed her aunt's cheek and then scrambled to go get dressed in the clothes her mother had set out for her.

Matt groaned. "I have to go. Don't spoil her, please."

"I won't," Alex said cheerfully, icy eyes sparkling with mischief. _Just kidding. When you return, this child will have more bloody possessions than you can count._

When Matt had left and both she and Tessa were ready, the two set out hand in hand. Alex hummed happily, in a cheerful mood despite the news she'd received the night before. They walked peacefully down the street, past people that didn't even spare them a second look, and Alex grinned at the thought. Little did they know that they were walking past a supernatural creature that wielded a knife that only she could feel.

They stepped into the little cafe that was on the corner of the street that the Montgomery family lived on, Tessa chatting eagerly about what kind of donut she wanted. Alex was smiling at her, giggling in amusement.

Until the scent of sulfur filled her nose.

Alex's smile vanished and she tensed nervously, her hand tightening around Tessa's. But she pretended nothing was wrong when Tessa gave her a confused yet curious look. The little girl didn't need to know, she told herself. Let her be able to sleep at night. _Damn, these bloody bastards are everywhere!_

She casually glanced around the cafe, as if she was bored while they waited for their donuts to be packaged up for them to eat elsewhere, looking for the source of the scent. She found it quickly: an elderly looking man, who was just as casually studying the people around him. She quickly looked away, her throat tight. It was more than likely he would recognize her as something other than human, just as she could smell that he was anything but. She contemplated texting the Winchesters, but realized there was nothing they'd be able to do.

 _Since when did I start needing help on anything?_ Alex scolded herself, thanking the woman at the counter as she took her and Tessa's donuts. She tucked them under her arm and quickly tugged her out of the building and to safety. She took a shuddering breath and decided that calling Ryssa would be the next best thing. She needed to get Tessa to safety. _Then_ she could focus on hunting.

Alex smirked to herself. She could do this, she'd hunted by herself for years before the Winchesters had shown up in her life. She lifted her phone to her ear as she led Tessa back towards the house.

"Hello?" came Ryssa's voice from the other end. "Alex?"

"Hullo," Alex responded quickly. "I believe it would be best if you came home, Ryss. I have some business to take care of. Immediately."

"Oh, dear," Ryss said anxiously. "Don't worry, I'm almost home now. I just finished grocery shopping. Just wait a few seconds and I'll be there." She sounded hurried as she added, "Is Tessa okay? Matt said I could leave her with you..."

"She's fine," Alex said, hurrying Tessa along the sidewalk. "I want you two to stay inside though, is that clear? I don't want you getting hurt by any demons."

Ryss was quiet for a moment, then murmured, "Demons? Are you sure?"

"Believe me," Alex said gravely, biting her lip. "I know a bloody demon when I smell one. Don't worry. I can deal with it. Just do as I said, alright?" She smiled gently at the confused Tessa. "You can have my donut, Ryss. Tessa? Your mum is going to eat with you."

Tessa blinked. "Where are you going, Aunt Alex?"

"Away for a few hours, probably," Alex responded, bidding her sister-in-law farewell before tucking her phone away. "Don't worry, Tessa, I'll be back. Promise me you'll stay with your mum, alright?"

"Kay," Tessa agreed, giggling again at her aunt's accent.

It didn't take long for her to get Tessa home, and she paused to say hello and goodbye to Ryss, who wished her luck with a grim look on her face before slipping away. As she made her way back in the direction of the cafe, her eyes narrowed, Alex yanked her phone out to call the Winchesters. She might as well make sure they knew what had happened if she didn't show up after a few days...something told her this encounter wasn't going to go well.

She simply picked a random one, holding her phone to her ear as she walked briskly down the street. She rested the phone between her shoulder and cheek, waiting for whoever she'd called to pick up as she checked to make sure she had her blade. She did, she found, and she was more than a little relieved. She never went anywhere without it, of course, but it was best to check and make sure.

Dean picked up. "Yo."

"There's a demon in the area," Alex reported, smirking. "I'm going after it. Just informing you in case I don't show up again."

"Whoa, wait. Hold on a second." Dean huffed, sounding bewildered. "I thought it was fine there! You said there wasn't anything wrong!"

Alex grimaced. "That's what I thought," she replied. She bit her lip as the cafe came into a sight a few moments later. "I was taking my niece out for breakfast though, and came across a demon. I'm not about to let rubbish like that hang around her, thank you very much."

"How old is she?"

"Four, and then I have another one that's seven. So I'm not waiting until you bloody fools show up, is that clear?" Alex said sharply. "You're more than welcome to make your way down here, but there's no way I'm leaving demons running around the area my family lives in. I've lost enough. I'm not losing anyone else."

Dean snorted softly, muttered something that she was able to catch even though she was on the phone. _At least you aren't heading to Hell._ She winced. That was true. "Be careful. I'm gonna go get Sam, maybe Bobby. We'll come down and you can stay with 'em while we check out the rest of the area. Watch out for Lilith, Alex."

"I know," Alex said in response, taking a deep breath. "Talk to you later, Dean."

"Yup. See ya."

 _Click!_

* * *

Alex sniffed quietly as she stopped outside of the cafe, her hand resting lightly over the hidden blade after putting her phone away. The smell of sulfur was fainter now, she realized warily, wrinkling her nose. The demon had left soon after she had.

She followed the scent around the building, ignoring the strange looks shot her way from within it. People stared through the massive windows and she pretended not to notice them. Not like they even had a single clue as to what was going on.

Bloody bastards.

Her phone dinged, and Alex glanced at it, noting that she'd been informed that her companions were now on their way from South Dakota. "Good," she muttered, nodding to herself and shoving her phone back into her pocket.

This was going to be a _long_ search, it appeared.

Evening had come and she still hadn't found the demon.

 _How_? she demanded silently as she lowered her furry head to sniff at the cement. She'd long since abandoned her humanoid form in favor of her wolf-dog one, using her enhanced senses to look for the demon after checking in with Matt - he and the rest of her family were safe as far as she knew - and after she'd received the call that the Winchesters and Bobby would be arriving around seven in the evening.

That still left her another hour before they showed up.

Cursing herself, Alex sighed, trotting down the street to try again.

How could a demon hide themself so well?

Suddenly, something came charging out of nowhere, slamming into her. Alex went down with a snarl of surprise, instinctively snapping her jaws at whatever had a tight hold on her. She ignored the nasty pain that enveloped her shoulder, locking her jaws on whatever held her within its tight grasp and somehow managed to snap her head the other way, hurling them so that they slammed into the ground. She scrambled to her paws, one raised off the ground.

 _Bloody hell,_ she growled silently. Somehow, her attacker had dislocated her shoulder, and she winced at the blood that had begun to drip from a wound in her side. Not good when you had a demon to hunt - no, she corrected, the scent of sulfur flooding her senses. Not good when you had encountered a demon that had decided it was time for a fight.

She pulled her lips back to show off her teeth, growling at the smug looking man before her. It was the elderly one from the cafe earlier in the day, and he didn't seem the least bit intimidated by the sight of her teeth. In fact, eagerness spread across his expression.

He was looking forward to this fight.

Alex's hackles rose and she snarled viciously, grateful that the cafe was closed for the evening. She didn't need people seeing what happened next. She danced backwards as the demon lunged, expertly avoiding blow after blow as she guided him into an alleyway, and then took the chance to lunge for the demon's throat. Her jaws closed over his neck, snapping her teeth tight around it just as black smoke exploded from his mouth. Alex dropped the body in shock, her ears flattening against her head as the man began to cough and gurgle past the wounds she'd inflicted.

 _Bloody arse,_ she growled. He'd done that on purpose, so that she'd have killed someone who was clearly still alive. So, rather than leaving the man to die a long and gruesome death or to be rescued and turn out to be like her, Alex did something she was occasionally forced to do, cursing herself the entire time.

She buried her teeth in his neck and shook until his neck snapped, effectively silencing him forever.

She wore a blank expression as she trotted back to where she'd left her possessions, wiping blood off of her muzzle every few steps and ignoring the nasty pain in her shoulder. She'd have Matt deal with that when she got back to the house.

Just what the hell was going on here? It was like the second she'd shown up, her family had stopped being safe!

She froze.

Had they _followed_ her?

She was going to kill the Winchesters!

Alex slowly shifted back into her human form as soon as she was able to, grimacing and groaning and whimpering as she did so. Pain raced up and down her spine and she cradled her dislocated shoulder with care as she carefully pulled her shirt on. As soon as she was dressed, she abandoned the idea of wasting time to put on her shoes, grabbing them and starting down the street, carefully lining her blade up with her arm, hopeful she wouldn't need it again for the night.

Alex wandered down the street, which was silent. She sniffed every few steps, searching for any danger that might pop up, keeping an eye on the streetlights as she did so. She'd been out all day, and she felt bad about it after saying she'd watch Tessa, but she'd make sure she made up for it. She was good with that.

Brick house after brick house blurred past as she tiredly walked, ignoring just about everything around her. When she finally reached Matt's house, she didn't even knock on the door. She swung it open, closing and locking it behind her with her uninjured side's hand. "Matt?" she called tiredly, stepping into the living room. "Ryss?"

"Alex?" came Ryss' hushed voice. The auburn-haired woman came hurrying into the room, her eyes widening at the pained look on the skinwalker's face. "Oh, what happened? Is everything alright?"

"Fine," Alex reassured, "Just dislocated my shoulder when fighting and got a little scratch, so...I'll try not to bleed on the carpet." She gave a faint smile. "Is Matt home yet?"

Ryss gave her a sympathetic look. "No...he' took an extra shift. He'll be gone for a few hours yet."

"Damn," she muttered. Alex ran her fingers through her tangled red-blonde hair. "Guess I'll wait until they get here, can't exactly go to the hospital...damn. It's trying to heal - I usually heal really fast - but if I don't get it fixed soon, it'll heal wrong and make it worse later."

Ryss bit her lip. "You said "until they get here"?"

"The people I've been working with," Alex said carefully. She settled onto the couch, leaning back carefully and then swearing softly as she realized her mistake. Gritting her teeth at the pain and pressing her good side's hand against her bleeding wound, she rasped, "I want to make sure everything's okay, so they're coming to help me. Clearly, I've lost all of my bloody self-assurance when it comes to killing those pieces of rubbish..."

The nervous looking Ryss pressed her lips together unhappily at the thought. "You didn't...you don't kill any innocent people, right?"

Alex didn't answer. Ryss' eyes went wide with shock at this, her face going pale. " _Alex_..."

"I know you probably hate the idea for it," Alex said quietly. "But it happens, okay? I don't exactly enjoy killing people, I hope you know. I had to. The Winchesters are no better than I, Ryss. But we won't hurt anyone unless necessary." She sighed softly, closing her blue eyes so that she could rest until someone that could help her fix her shoulder arrived.

Ryss left to go and take care of her daughters, her face troubled.

Alex had the feeling that she wouldn't be welcome near her nieces after that interesting conversation.

* * *

It was nearly a painful hour later that her phone went off. She cracked an eye open as she answered, cursing the blood that would be left on the device. "Hullo?"

"Which house?"

She blinked blurrily. "Huh?"

"Which house?" Dean repeated, sounding impatient. "We're here. Which house is the one you're at? Friggin' wasting time here."

Alex croaked out the address, and then added, "Saw the bastard. Still hangin' around here somewhere." And just to piss him off, because she felt like it, she continued. "I'm knackered, and I want to take a kip. Hurry your arse up."

Sometimes, pissing him off with British slang was the best way to make her feel better, and this was definitely one of those times.

"..." Dean promptly hung up, and Alex gave a small laugh before closing her eyes to sleep again and covering her side once more. She scowled at the fact that she was exhausted with no clue as to why. Fighting didn't usually exhaust her this much, even when she was hurt twenty times worse than this.

It seemed like only seconds later that there was a knock on the door. "Ryss!" Alex shouted, hoping that she wouldn't have to get up. "Can you get the door for me?"

"Of course." Ryss came hurrying out of the kitchen, from where she was doing the dishes so that she could head upstairs and to bed. Her smile faded into a look of concern at the sweat that had begun to dot her sister-in-law's forehead, and quickly swung the door open.

She was forced to tilt her head back slightly to look up at a nervously smiling Sam. "Hi," he greeted.

"Hello, I'm Ryss," Ryss introduced, smiling brilliantly at him. She waved him inside, along with Dean, who stopped to give her a once-over before noticing the wedding ring she wore and focusing on matters at hand.

"I'm Sam," Sam responded, "And this is my brother, Dean. We're-"

"The people that work with Alex, I know." Ryss jerked her thumb at Alex, who raised a shaky hand, not bothering to open her eyes. "She's right there. She got hurt, said that you would help her since Matt isn't home yet..."

"We'll do it, don't worry," Sam reassured, closing the door behind them. "We'll take care of it. You have kids, right? Go check on them, keep them upstairs so they don't hear anything you don't want them knowing."

"Got it," Ryss responded and hurried up the stairs to do just that.

The Winchesters exchanged a look before Dean crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "So how the friggin' hell did this happen, puppy?"

"Dean," Sam protested, annoyed.

Alex shifted carefully, grunting and nearly toppling over in the process. "Dunno. Fought the bloody wanker, got back here, and..." She waved her bloodied hand in the air, ignoring the fact that a drop of blood struck an immediately cranky Dean on the cheek. "It's...gah!" She gritted her teeth, wrapping her arm around her middle. "Just...fix it. Please. First-aid's in the first cabinet on your left in the kitchen."

"Dean, go get it," Sam said before his brother could snarl something angrily, annoyed with her for getting her blood on him. He then turned back to her, his eyes narrowed. "We'll get your shoulder fixed while he's doing that...ready?"

She gave him a small thumbs up. She braced herself on the couch, wincing as he expertly prepared to pop her shoulder back into place. Alex silently cursed herself for not stealing form her brother's stash of alcohol.

There was a sharp crack followed by a muffled yelp of pain. Alex's sharp hearing picked up the questioning words of Hally upstairs, but she only gave a shaky sigh, withdrawing her arm and carefully resting it on her knee, letting it simply heal for the time being.

"Did I miss it? Damn." Dean came back in with the first-aid kit tucked under one arm. He handed it to Sam, who rolled his eyes.

"Wanker," Alex wheezed.

"Bitch."

"Dean!" Sam snapped impatiently. "There's kids in the place! Pretty sure they don't need to be hearing things like that."

Dean huffed. "Alex was saying-"

"I use British slang," Alex mumbled. "Different. 'Sides. I'm their aunt, I can say whatever I want. You're an arse that needs to stop being a twat, so naff off!"

...okay, maybe she was overdoing it a little.

More than a little if the looks on their faces was anything to go by.

She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. Makes me feel better."

"The hell's going on in here?"

Alex's head snapped around, and she gave a small wave to her brother as Matt stepped through the door. Matt looked anything but amused as he glared suspiciously at Dean and Sam with eyes as blue as his sister's. "Hey, Matt," Alex greeted.

"Don't "hey" me," he snapped. "Who are they? Just because you're out hunting whatever doesn't mean you can bring people who _might_ infect my children-"

Alex's gaze hardened dangerously. "Don't," she muttered, "Even go there, Matt. These are Sam and Dean, the Winchesters. The ones I've been working with for a while now. They're not skinwalkers."

"Dude," Dean cut in, looking astonished. "Do you not see the blood? She's bleeding."

Sam grunted his agreement, frowning, but Alex merely waved them off. "It's fine," she muttered, looking a little upset by the matter. She yawned. "Just...Sam, do you mind?"

"Sure." The younger of the two gave a tight smile, glancing one more time at Matt before turning away to set to work on fixing up Alex's side. He gently inspected the injury after she'd twisted to let him - and then uttered a soft swear. "There's some kind of metal...did he catch you with any silver?"

She blinked. "I didn't feel anything like that. I guess he might have." She wrinkled her nose, sniffing to try and figure out just how much silver might be in the wound-

-and caught the scent of sulfur, enough so that she sneezed loudly.

"Bloody _hell_ ," she choked out, ripping her blade out of it's hiding place and then clutching her side when pain raced through her. "Damn it!"

"Alex?" Sam demanded.

"Demon," she mumbled from between clenched teeth, glaring at a suddenly grinning Matt.

"Miss me?" he taunted, and Dean spun on his heel, shoving his hand into his pocket to withdraw something. Before he could, Matt - the demon - simply waved his hand and it was gone. Alex grimaced at the sound of a glass bottle shattering. "Didn't dig the thing in deeper...should have been dead by now, saved us some trouble."

Alex only scowled, clenching her jaw when she realized that she couldn't exactly fight with the way she was now. So, she shoved her blade into Sam's hands. "Don't kill him," she mumbled. "Please don't kill my brother."

Sam's eyes widened with alarm. "Then what do I need this for?!"

"Try not to kill Matt," Alex corrected.

"What do you want us to do then?" Dean huffed. "Do an exorcism while he's trying to-"

"Daddy?"

Tessa's voice had the demon's smile growing sinister. Alex swore when she saw the little four year old at the bottom of the stairs, ignoring the pain to throw herself past the demon and at the stairs. "Ryss!" she shrieked. "Ryss! Keep them upstairs!"

Ryss appeared at the top of the stairs, a frown on her face. "Why? What's going on? You shouldn't be-"

A loud crash interrupted her as Sam was suddenly thrown _through_ the wall at the base of the stairs. Tessa screamed in terror and Alex shoved her up the stairs, grimacing at the bloody hand print she left on her niece's nightgown. Ryss' eyes widened with horror as she grabbed Tessa and fled to hide, dragging the curious Hally with her.

Alex took a deep breath and forcefully set to work on digging in the damaged flesh of her injury, hissing in pain when spots dotted her vision. Finally, she withdrew a small but partially melted piece of metal, one that just barely singed at her fingers.

Not pure silver, but enough so that it would have done it's job.

She tossed it over her shoulder without a care, and then counted to ten, hoping her healing would kick in.

It took mere seconds for her exhaustion to fade, and she immediately changed forms, throwing herself at Matt. She was careful not to bite him as she pinned him to the ground, snarling softly. Dean jumped out of the way, cursing her in the process, but she didn't care.

She had to save Matt, even if it killed them. If it meant saving her brother, she'd sacrifice the world, because there was no way in _hell_ she'd suffer more than she already had. And she wouldn't make her brother's family go through the same pain they had.

Alex whipped her massive furry head around to glare at Sam as the moose of a man hauled himself out of the wall. He winced, swiping some blood from his forehead as he immediately began to recite the exorcism, ignoring the demons loud screeching in Matt's voice.

"Lilith will find you!" it cried excitedly, and Alex shivered at the thought. She didn't like the sound of that at all, she decided. And neither did Dean, who simply dug in his brother's pocket as Sam continued to utter the exorcism, dumping a canteen full of holy water onto Matt's head. Smoke rose from his flesh, and Alex wrinkled her nose at the smell, fighting back a wave of tears.

This was her fault.

It was always her fault.

Suddenly, the familiar black smoke exploded outward from Matt's mouth, and the man fell limp beneath her. She growled at the smoke as it swirled away, escaping out from beneath the front door. She stepped off of the unconscious man, and was immediately changing into her humanoid form, eyes darting to the Winchesters. "Could one of you go get my nieces and their mother? I want to make sure they're alright, but I can't...I can't leave..."

"I'll do it," Dean muttered. He dropped the emptied canteen to the floor, where it gave a loud clank, bouncing. He cast a final look at the messy living room, the heavily breathing Sam, and the pale Alex before leaving.

"You alright?" Sam asked, glancing at her.

"I should be asking you that," she mused, nodding at the blood that was still dripping from the gash in his head. His lips twisted into a wry grin.

"I'm fine," Sam answered, then looked over his shoulder when Dean came thumping down the stairs, a terrified looking Hally in his grasp. Alex noted the fact that he was smiling just slightly, looking a bit happy about holding the kid despite the current situation. Ryss came down with Tessa in her arms, her eyes wide with fear as she followed him.

"Everything's been dealt with," Alex told her, ignoring the shameless staring she was receiving from Dean as she tugged her jeans back on. She was quick to yank her blood-stained shirt over her head as well, and she glared at him for staring afterwards. "Matt should be okay."

Ryss clenched her jaw uneasily. "What happened? Is he alright?"

"Fine," Sam supplied. "Just possessed by a demon."

" _Just_ possessed?" Ryss' voice rose in volume, anger mixing with terror and disbelief. "Do you think this is a _game_?! My husband was just- My daughters! My children could have been-" She cut off with a strangled sob, and she hid her face in the quiet Tessa's hair. She took a deep breath, and then breathed a word that twisted Alex's heart. "Out. I want you out. All of you."

Alex hesitantly took a step towards her sister-in-law, hurt flashing across her expression. "Ryss-"

"Out!" Ryss interrupted, the word sharp and cutting through her like knives. She whirled on Dean just as quickly, grabbing Hally's arm and practically dragging Hally free of his grasp. Hally gave a soft cry of surprise and pain when she tumbled to the floor, and Ryss only touched her head apologetically before snarling, "I want you out of my house immediately. Don't bother coming back. You put my family in danger...I don't know why we ever let you come here, Alex." She curled a lip, eyes blazing. "Did you bite him?"

Alex jerked with an offended look on her face. "As if I'd - Ryss, you know I'd _never_ -" Her voice cracked.

Sam pursed his lips. "We're leaving. Give us a moment so that Alex can gather up her things, Mrs. Montgomery. I can move him to the couch if you want," he added, waving towards Matt.

"Don't touch him," she spat out as fast as the words could leave her mouth. "Just...get out."

"Mommy?" Tessa said softly, looking confused. "What's going on? I thought Aunty Alex was going to-"

"Hush, dear," Ryss said, gently brushing the hair from Tessa's face. "Alex isn't you're aunty anymore. Okay?"

If Alex had been upset before, it was nothing compared to the pain she felt now. She silently went to work on gathering up her things, her face carefully blank and her mind numb, even as Sam tried to protest against what Ryss was saying and Dean, surprisingly gentle, pushed Alex out of the way when her hands shook too much to shove things into her duffel bag.

When they'd finally stepped out of the house, Alex spared a final look backwards, hope flashing through her when her sharp ears picked up the sound of Matt stirring.

Ryss slammed the door before she could say anything, though.

"Alex?" Sam said hesitantly, as if wary of speaking to the quiet skinwalker.

"I'm okay," she breathed. "I'm...okay."

"Come on," Dean said in response. "Let's go tell Bobby about what happen."

"Yeah," Sam agreed reluctantly.

"Yes," Alex echoed, staggering over to the car. She waited until Dean had unlocked it before climbing into the back seat, not bothering to fight for the passenger seat like she usually did. Instead, she curled up on her side, careful not to get blood on the seat, and closed her eyes, silently listening to the words Dean and Sam mumbled to each other minutes later when they thought she wouldn't notice.

They would turn on her, too, some day.

They always did.

* * *

 **|March 13, 2008|**

She kicked a large rock as she wandered the path around the lake, ignoring the buzzing of her phone in her pocket as she contemplated just what she was going to do. She'd been considering the idea of leaving for a while now, going back to England, or even going to live as a dog. She paused, then scratched out the first idea.

She was contemplating the idea of either continuing hunting or going to live as a dog. Maybe she could find that girl, Avery, and pray she hadn't scared her too badly. Maybe she'd take her in again...

Alex hoped so.

The skinwalker bit her lip, chewing thoughtfully on it as she turned to look out across the water. It had been a couple weeks since she'd basically been outcasted from what remained of her family. She'd received a few phone calls from her brother - none of which she'd answered - as had the Winchesters, whose numbers were still in her voicemail. They'd just wrapped up on the job they'd taken little over three days ago; it'd been some ghost job, a normal one that hadn't been too exciting.

She kicked another rock and it went skittering into the water, which rippled as the stone sank, never to be seen again. Not that anyone would go looking for it.

Alex frowned. If she disappeared to go play as a pet...would anyone look for her? Sure, the Winchesters were friends for the time being - she used that term lightly when concerning Dean, she was still pretty sure he hated her - but everyone left eventually, right? Or at least turned on her.

Damn, there were a hell of a lot of problems that came with being her. Not that she liked to complain. In reality, she hated whining about her life. She was proud - _had_ been proud - of the life she'd carved for herself, but that pride was gone now.

Her sister-in-law despised her after swearing that she'd never hate her for what she was. She'd _promised_ when Alex had reluctantly told her. She'd been the one to demand to know why Alex constantly smelled of wet dog after showering, why the young woman was able to so easily tell her what her daughter was doing. They'd been decent friends for nearly three years of Hally's life before she'd told her.

And now she was betrayed.

She should have known. Alex huffed, hugging herself as she kicked yet another rock into the water.

"Can't catch a brake, can I?" she grumbled.

"Yo! You done moping yet?"

The familiar voice made her nearly jump out of her skin, and Alex whipped around to see a smug looking Dean. She glared at him, her icy eyes narrowing warningly until she saw the tired look about him, the exhaustion lining his face, and the way his hunched body swayed as he staggered closer.

Clearly, Dean Winchester had gotten himself just a little bit drunk. And she used the word "little" to hide the fact that the man was completely and totally wasted.

"Bloody hell, Winchester," she muttered, arching an eyebrow as he came to a shaky halt beside her. "You okay to be out here? Don't you need to be faffing about in a bed somewhere? Where's Sam? I thought he was going to keep the whisky from you."

"Snuck it away from him," the man admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "Thought he hid it good when he went to finish up the job. Giving final statements to the cops, the likes."

"Ah," she mumbled. She brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and then sighed softly. "May I ask why you decided you needed to drink yourself into oblivion?"

"Nearly two and a half months away from going to Hell," Dean said with a shrug. "Give me a break for a change, woman."

"If you weren't an arse, maybe I'd consider it," she fired back. She rolled her eyes, and then turned them back on the peaceful lake. "Life is a bloody hell hole right now, isn't it." It was a statement, not a question, that she uttered.

"Eh. Always is for us," he answered. He glanced at her. "What you thinking about by yourself out here?"

Blinking at the question that made no sense, it took her a moment to understand. Then Alex gave a dry smile and rocked back on her heels, admitting, "Whether or not I should leave. I'm done with this hunting thing. It's taken one too many things from me."

"Can't," was his immediate answer. Dean followed her gaze to stare out at the lake. "Need someone to look after Sammy when I'm gone, if you don't mind. And Bobby's not cut out for the job like we are. He's not young enough to keep up with the amount of fighting we do, not anymore."

"Well aren't you a kind soul," she muttered.

He snorted in response. "Seriously though." He glanced at her. "Need someone to keep an eye on Sammy...you willing to do that? I don't want him getting mixed up with that demon bitch."

Alex pressed her lips together unhappily at both the idea of continuing like this and keeping Sam away from Ruby. Finally, she huffed out a soft sigh. "I suppose. Thought you'd rather kill me than trust me with this kind of thing though, to be honest."

"I still don't trust you completely," Dean admitted gruffly, "But...ain't many other people who would do it."

A smile played along the skinwalker's lips as she agreed, and the two agreed to a peaceful truce for the time being, staring over the calming water of the lake.

* * *

 _Another quick chapter...:D_


	11. Time Is On My Side

**| May 8, 2008 |**

She wrinkled her nose as she leaned back against the wall of the iron room, trying her hardest to ignore the smell of burning flesh that accompanied the torturing of demons. She hated using holy water on them. She'd have the scent stuck in her mind for days at this point.

"You ready to talk?" a fairly annoyed looking Dean growled as the demon glared, shuddering from the pain. His hands fisted, flexed, and then fisted again as he fought back screams.

"I don't know," the demon gritted out, scowling at Dean and then the others in the room. "I don't know anything!"

Dean cracked his knuckles, tossing the holy water to his brother. "Hear that, Sammy? He doesn't know anything."

"I heard," Sam said with a smirk, twirling the closed glass bottle between his fingers.

"I'm telling you the truth," the demon insisted.

Alex shoved away from the wall, her icy eyes glittering dangerously as she leaned closer to glare at him. The demon flinched back at the look in her eyes and the dangerous looking blade that had suddenly appeared in her hand. She thoughtfully drew the tip across his arm, smirking to herself at the pained shriek the demon gave. "Are you? Dear Lord, we owe you an apology." Her smile vanished. "Stop faffing around, you bloody bastard. Answer the damn question already."

Sam tossed the holy water back to Dean, and Dean didn't hesitate to force some of the liquid into the possessed man's mouth. The demon gurgled in pain, kicking his legs. "I'm gonna ask you one last time," Dean hissed. "Who holds my contract?!"

The demon fell silent for a few moment, then grinned up at him, black eyes sparkling with dark amusement. "Your mother," he bit out, and Dean's expression darkened further. "Yeah...she showed it to me right before I bent her over."

"A name," Dean snapped. "Or else."

"Or what?" The demon sat back in his chair, smirking up at them. Sam pressed his lips together unhappily, and Alex pushed her un-brushed hair out of her eyes before propping a hand on her hip. "Please. Brother, that's like a fucking _fleabite_ ," Alex quite literally snarled at the jibe, "Compared to what'll happen to me if I talk. Do what you want. The only thing I'm scared of is the bastard holding your ticket."

Dean waved for Sam to start reciting the exorcism that would expel the demon from the innocent man's body. "Go ahead, Sam. We ain't getting anything out of him."

"Got it," Sam muttered. He began to speak in Latin, and Alex grimaced, fighting off the urge to cover her ears as the demon _screamed_.

It had been a few months since things had gone wrong in regards to her family, and Alex liked to tell herself - and others - that she was okay. That she didn't care anymore, that she was over it.

Not.

A determined Matt called her every few days - once he'd done it nearly every thirty minutes for close to six hours, and Dean had nearly throttled her so that he could get her phone and answer for it himself. But she refused to answer, claiming that she wouldn't have anything to do with a group that didn't appreciate the work she did.

Of course, she'd also left blood all over her niece's nightgown, so she couldn't exactly blame Ryss for reacting in such a way. She would have, too.

But still. She didn't want to rub salt in the wound.

Alex rubbed a hand down her face with a yawn as Sam spoke into his phone, his dark eyes thoughtful. "You ran the prints twice? Are you sure? Okay. Yeah, just chalk it up to lab error. Thanks. Yeah...I'll tell him."

Alex rocked forward onto the balls of her feet as Sam hung up, running his fingers through his long-ish hair. Her own icy gaze locked on him. "Well?"

"I'll wait til Dean comes back," Sam told her, shaking his head. "A bit of information that he needs to hear, too."

"Okay," she accepted, sighing and leaning back again. She cocked her head slightly, looking very much like her canine counterpart as she studied the younger of the two Winchesters. As far as she could tell, he hadn't spoken with Ruby in a while. In fact, she was hoping it was that way.

Despite Dean's wishes to keep them away from each other, and for her to protect Sam, she didn't think she'd be able to completely succeed. If anything, she was sure that the second Sam decided he was siding with Ruby, Alex would find herself in Hell right alongside Dean.

...not. She hoped.

She wasn't actually sure on what happened to her kind when they died. She hoped it wasn't anything too bad. Because Heaven was more than deserved after what she'd done for the past however many years.

Dean finally came inside, brushing dirt from his hands and onto his pants. Alex snickered when she saw the smear on his cheek. Sam glanced at him, and he waved his brother off with a huff. "Body's been dealt with. Those demons ride 'em hard just for kicks. Toss me a beer, puppy." She did just that after pulling one out of the box they'd purchased earlier in the day, tossing it to him, and he caught it with ease, opening it quickly and chugging down half of the contents. "What was the call?"  
Alex leaned forward, paying attention now. Sam would definitely be spilling information they needed to know at this point.

And he didn't disappoint. "Remember that thing in the paper yesterday?" Dean made a snide comment about a stripper suffocating someone with their thighs, and Sam gave him an unimpressed look before continuing, "I mean the one about the one who walked into the E.R. and died."

"Oh!" Alex tapped her lower lip with a thoughtful expression, her icy eyes darting to the younger Winchester's face in thought. "The one who had his stomach torn out, yes?"

"His liver, actually," Sam corrected, though gave her a grateful look for not making any stupid comments like his brother. "Anyways, I found just out something pretty damn interesting." He crossed his arms. "The bloody fingerprints that were all over the body? Not the victim's."

"Wouldn't my man Dave Caruso be stoked to hear about it," Dean said sarcastically, swiping at the dirt on his face after seeing it in a mirror arcross the room. He scowled when it didn't come off.

"The fingerprints match a guy who died in 1989," Sam reported, once again ignoring his brother.

Alex's eyes sharpened and she stepped closer, arms crossed. "What, then? Are we thinking zombies or something of the sort? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard, if that's what you have on your mind."

Sam shrugged. "I'm not saying zombies for sure or anything, but maybe."

"What do you care about zombies?" Dean demanded suddenly, giving his brother a weird look. Sam shot him a questioning look. "You've been on soul-saving detail for months now. Three weeks out, and all of a sudden, you care more for some hot zombie action?"

Sam threw his hands up. "You're the one who's been all ready to go on a hunt, Dean. I thought I'd be doing you a favor."

"Cut it out, you bloody idiots," Alex huffed before Dean could answer. "Can we just go do some more work? I don't feel like listening to you complain about stupid things."

Both agreed, and Alex ignored the glares sent her way as she turned to go dig in her bag, her hand skimming her weapon for reassurance as she did so.

They were running out of time, and they all knew it.

Especially the green-eyed Winchester who wore a near mournful look upon his face.

"Yeah, the rest of the body was intact. It was only the liver that was missing."

Alex wrinkled her nose as they listened to the coroner. Her icy eyes studied the papers that they were looking at, and she ignored the looks she got every now and then from the man she and Sam were talking to. With Dean spouting stupid things every five seconds, they'd decided it would be smart for Alex to go inside as a human rather than all three of them. "Any teeth marks anywhere?" she questioned, her accent sharpened with curiosity.

"No," the coroner answered, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. "Not that I've found. "The liver was removed surgically. The wound was neat, made with someone who knows their way around a scalpel." He waved at the body, which Sam had begun to examine. "You done?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed, stepping back. "We're good. Thank you, sir."

They bid the coroner farewell and walked out of the office with Alex wearing a carefully thoughtful look. "So...not a zombie," she murmured, looking relieved about the matter.

"What?" Sam teased, "Not a fan of zombies?"

Alex snorted. " _Hell_ no," she growled. "Suckers are terrifying. Think about being eaten alive or turned into one and get back to me on how they're _not_ terrifying. Trust me. Any case that might involve them gets left behind usually."

He grinned, looking like he was going to laugh, and she smacked his arm as they left the building, warning him if he said anything whatsoever to Dean, they'd have some issues. When they reached the Impala, Alex snatched the front seat with a smug look on her face, and Sam shook his head in amusement before sliding into the back. "Well?" Dean demanded from the driver's seat, twisting to look at his brother. "What'd you figure out?"

"We're not looking for someone who just hacks into bodies," Sam explained. "The liver was cut from them with surgical tools...no zombies."

"So...zombie with skills," Dean suggested.

"No zombies, Winchester," Alex gritted out in response, glaring at him, and he only grinned mockingly when he sat back.

"Don't like them, eh?" he drawled, eyes gleaming with a look that just promised unending mockery about such a matter.

Before Dean could pounce on the idea and give her hell about it, Sam came to the rescue. "I think we're on the wrong track, Dean," he told his brother honestly. "I think we're looking at organ theft, not zombie lunch."

Dean gave a small shrug and turned away from Sam to shift the gears of the Impala, ready to get a move on. "Let's go...we got other things to do."

Alex tapped her finger thoughtfully on the table, her blue eyes locked on the screen in front of her face. Sam was sitting beside her, his brow furrowed as he searched the information with her, and Dean sat across the table from both of them, a content look on his face and a burger in his hands. Sam suddenly sat back, folding his arms with a thoughtful expression on his face. "So," he began, capturing the other two's attention. "I have a theory."

"Speak," Alex ordered, tilting her head and ignoring the snicker Dean gave at something he failed to mention aloud. "Because we have nothing."

"I talked to Mr. Giggle's Doctor earlier," Sam explained, glancing between the two. "Turns out his incisions were sewn up with silk."

"Weird," Dean said with a shrug. He took a bite out of his burger, happily chowing down as Alex gave him a look of disgust. He only grinned, showing off the food, and she curled a lip at him.

"Now a days? Yeah." Sam suddenly leaned forward tapping the laptop screen with a pointed look. "But silk used to be the suture of choice back in the early 19th century, Dean. It was really problematic. Patients would get massive infections, and the death rate? Insane."

Alex payed attention to what he was saying, then blinked. "Wait, didn't they use maggots? They're supposed to eat the bad tissue, leaving the good tissue behind."

Sam nodded. "And get this. When they found him, his body cavity was stuffed full of maggots."

"Dude!" Dean snapped, waving at his burger. "Do you not see me eating? Seriously!" He took an angry bite out of it. "So people getting ganked, right? A little "antiques roadshow" surgery, some organ theft." He paused mid-chew, then glanced at Sam. "Wait a second. This sound familiar to you?"

Sam flashed a grin. "When we were kids. From Dad." Alex curiously payed attention. She didn't hear much about their father, so she payed attention whenever he was mentioned. She knew John Winchester had been a well-known hunter and honestly? Who wouldn't want to know about him? "Doctor Benton. He was a real-life doctor, lived in New Hampshire. He was brilliant...and completely obsessed with alchemy."

"Especially how to live forever," Alex added, surprising them both. She shrugged when they stared at her. "What? I overhear things, okay? I heard the man that raised me mentioning him once. Had been thinking about going to deal with him but decided against it. Made him nervous, and that was just weird."

Sam shrugged. "Right. Anyways, he abandons his practice in 1816, and-"

"Nobody hears from him for like twenty years," Dean said, eyes narrowing. "All of a sudden, people start showing up dead."

"Or missing an organ or the hand or some other kind of part," Sam reminded. He rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully.

"Whatever he was doing was actually working," Dean mused. "He just kept on ticking. Parts would wear out, he'd replace them." His gaze darted to his brother, suspicious. "But I thought Dad hunted him down and took his heart out, Sam."

"Yeah, I guess he must have plugged in a new one."

"All right," Dean huffed. "Where's he doing the dead?" He swallowed a mouthful of food.

Alex pinched the bridge of her nose, wanting to cry over his idiocy at the moment. "Please, Winchester, rephrase such things. It's not nice to think that a disgusting man that's been stitched together from pieces of other people's body is out there, ah, copulating with people he's killed."

Dean made a face, correcting himself after that idea. "Doing the deed?"

Sam snickered, then told them, "According to this, Benton's picky about where he sets up his lab. Dense forest with access to a river or some other kind of freshwater source."

"Why?" Dean demanded.

Sam grinned as he watched his brother take a rather large bite of his burger. "That's where he likes to dump the bile, intestines, fecal matter, the likes." Dean gagged on his food, looking disgusted as he lowered his burger. "Lose your appetite yet?"

Dean contemplated for a moment, studying his burger, and then glanced at the two that stared at him hopefully. His gaze returned to the burger. "Oh, baby," he practically purred, smirking hugely. "I can't stay mad at you."

"Pig," Alex muttered, unable to do anything but gawk as Dean devoured the rest of his burger without a problem, her own stomach churning as she studied the illustrations that had been done to explain just what the doctor they were hunting had done.

* * *

"So these are all cabins," Alex pointed out on the map they were all looking at. "Most of them have been left for years." She paused to glance up at the two males before her, narrowing her eyes. "You listening, Winchester? Looking kind of scared over there."

Dean ignored her taunt in favor of answering his ringing phone when it went off, and she and Sam exchanged a curious look when he greeted, "Bobby." Alex snorted and plucked the phone from his fingers, turning it on speaker.

"Hullo," she greeted, "We're here, too, now."

"Sam, Alex," Bobby said with a chuckle from the other end of the call. "Anyways, I think I finally got a lead on Bela."

Alex's eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning. "Oh, really?"

"Rufus Turner," Bobby replied, "He's a hunter...or he used to be."

"Now?" Sam questioned.

"Hermit mostly. Does a little selling on the side. Anyway, I put the word out on her months ago. He just called. Said a woman got in touch, wanted to buy some things."

"And he thinks it's Bela?" Dean asked, his face one of annoyance towards the British woman.

"British accent," Bobby reported, "And unless Alex went by the name of Mina Chandler, then it's Bela alright."

"She's used it before," Sam muttered. He, too, looked serious, and Alex beamed at the fact that they were as eager to catch the bitch as she was. "That's a sloppy move on her part...wouldn't she be careful about getting into contact with people of our type? She knows we have plenty of "friends"."

"Friend?" Bobby gave a snort, like he was amused with them. "Haven't laid eyes on him in fifteen years. Not exactly the Christmas card type. Doubt she knows I know him. Canaan, Vermont, guys."

"Thanks, Bobby. We're on our way."

Before Dean could hang up the call, Bobby added hastily, "One other thing. Take a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue, you hear me?"

"Yeah. Talk to you later, Bobby." Dean hung up, then said to his brother, "Come on. We're going after Bela."

"What? Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sam protested, "Hold on a second."

"Get your stuff," Dean urged, "The clock's ticking, we have to get that bitch."

"We can't just abandon this case, Winchester," Alex said quietly, lips pressed together. "It's not right. This is important, you bloody fool. People are _dying_."

"And there's no way she still has the Colt!" Sam agreed, crossing his arms with a firm look. "She probably sold it the second she got it! Look how long she's had it."

"Well then, I'll kill her. Win-win."

Alex silently mused that that was a _very_ good temptation, but said quietly, "We can't just leave people to die, Winchester. We're hunters. Our wants don't matter."

Dean shot her a fierce glare...that quickly turned into a look of confusion he shared at her when Sam urged, "This, this here. now. This is what's gonna save you, Dean."

"What?" Dean said sarcastically. "Chasing some Frankenstein?"

"Chasing _immortality_ ," Sam corrected. Alex shook her head in disapproval, biting her lip. "Look," he said firmly, "Benton can't die. We find out how he did it, we can do it to you. You have to die before you got to Hell, right? So...if you can never die, then..."

"You're insane. Both of you." Alex threw her hands up in the air.

Dean scowled. "Did you know this was Doc Benton from the jump?"

"No." Dean glared. "...look, I was hoping."

"And you were talking about zombies," Alex said in disgust, shaking her head.

"Stay out of this, Alex," Dean snapped, "This is a family matter. And, hate to disappoint you, we don't have any dogs last time I checked." Alex glared at him furiously, a growl escaping her lips at the nasty tone of voice.

"I didn't want to say anything until I was sure, Dean," Sam said quietly. "All I'm trying to do is find an answer here."

"No." Dean shook his head, furious with his brother for doing such a thing. "What you're trying to do is chase Slicy McHackey here - shut _up_ Alex!" he added when she muttered about Winchester talk. "And to kill him? No, you just wanna study him, buy him a freaking beer."

Sam gave him a hurt look. "I was just trying to help."

"You're not helping, Sam!" Dean shouted, his face hard with anger. "You forget that if I welch on this deal, _you_ die!" He threw his arms up. "Guess what?! Living forever is welching!" He shook his head. "No, it's just like Bobby's been saying. We kill the bastard who owns the contract, and this whole damn thing wipes clean. That's our best shot."

"Even if you had the Colt, Dean, who are you going to shoot? We have no idea who holds the ticket." Sam glared at his brother just as fiercely as Dean was glaring at him.

"I'll shoot the hellhounds before they slash me up." Dean waved him off, not concerned at all about the matter. "Now, you coming or not?"

"I'm staying here." Sam spoke quietly, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"No, you're not," Dean bit out. "I'm not gonna let you wander out in the woods with a dog to track some organ stealing freak."

"Oi!" Alex bit out, "Watch it, Winchester!"

"You're not gonna _let_ me?" Sam said, astonished.

"No, I'm not gonna let you," his brother responded shortly.

"And neither am I. I'm with Winchester on this despite him being a twat about it all." Alex glared at both of them, her hands going to her hips. She wore a stubborn look on her face. "Look, catching Bela is going to require more than just one bloody idiot. And while I feel like I'd be better for catching her than you two, I can figure out which cabin this bastard's at faster. So here's the plan. You two go after Bela. Go talk with Rufus Turner. I'll deal with Benton. Yes?"

"You can't just go and fight this guy by yourself, Alex," Sam protested, then yanked back when she bared her teeth at him.

"Why? Because I'm a girl? Believe me, Sam, I'll be fine. I've fought a hell of a lot worse than this before." She touched the blade at her arm, giving a smirk. "So get going before Bela's gone, because this might be the last chance we have to get that gun before Winchester up and keels over."

* * *

"Damn, she's a bossy bitch," Dean muttered to his brother as they climbed a tall set of stairs. At the top was a porch that was decorated only with a sign that said in barely legible writing, "NO SOLICITORS. THAT MEANS YOU! NO ASKING FOR DONATIONS. NO SELLING ANYTHING."

Sam grunted in response as he climbed the last step, his hands tucked into his pockets. "She's Alex. Must be the skinwalker blood. Gotta be top dog."

Dean snickered at that, then rang the doorbell, the alcohol in his hand dangling at his side as he did so. Both glanced up at a soft sound, and he raised an eyebrow when he saw the security camera watching him. A voice buzzed out over an intercom. "What?"

"Hi, uh, Rufus?" Sam said, waving for his brother to stay quiet. He didn't trust Dean to say the right things, that was for sure.

"Even if I am, the question's the same," the voice barked back. "What?"

"I'm Sam Winchester," Sam explained. "This is my brother Dean. We're friends of Bobby Singer's."

"So?"

"You called him this morning."

"So?"

Dean grinned brightly at the camera, as if his charms would work. "You told Bobby about a British Chic who made contact with you."

"So?"

Sam looked incredibly frustrated by Rufus' lack of response. "You know where she is?"

"Yeah."

"Great," Dean said cheerfully. "Could you tell me where we could find her?"

"No."

Dean's gaze darkened with annoyance, and Sam jumped back in quickly. "Look, Rufus, man, we're-"

The door suddenly opened, revealing a somewhat cranky looking man. his eyes were irritable as he spat, "Look, let me point something out to you two. You are knocking at my door, so don't talk to me like I'm a child. I'm not your man."

Sam had to fight back a quick smirk that flashed across his face when Dean rubbed the back of his head awkwardly with his free hand and muttered, "Sorry, sir."

"Alright," Rufus said, gaze darting to Sam for a moment and doing a quick survey of the taller Winchester. "Let me tell you a little story. See, once upon a time, Bobby called me. Asked me to call him if I got a whiff of this Bela Talbot. I got a whiff. I called. The end."

"Okay," Sam began, "I know you want nothing to do with us, but if you could just tell us where she is, that would be great." He found himself reluctantly wishing they had Alex with them; the skinwalker might have been able to charm Rufus into giving out the information they needed. Difficult people like Rufus usually fell under her control fairly quickly once she started batting her eyelashes.

He'd learned that the hard way when she'd sent him out to get some expensive wine with his own money.

"You said your name was Sam, right? Sam Winchester?"

"Yeah," Sam said reluctantly, not liking where this was going.

"Sam, do I look like I'm here to help you?"

Dean suddenly grinned, lifting the bottle in his hand. Suddenly, Bobby's suggestion made a hell of a lot more sense then it had when they'd been on the phone. "Alright, fair enough. Got one more question for you, though. See, I got this bottle of scotch. Do you know if it's good?"

"...come on in, boys." Rufus stepped aside, a slightly creepy smile on his face.

Not too long later found the three of them sitting at a table, each with a glass of alcohol in front of them. The bottle of scotch that they'd brought with them was missing most of its contents.

"You know," Rufus said after they'd all taken a drink. "I don't even bother drinking unless it's this stuff. Nectar of the gods, I'm telling you."

"It's a nice change. Most of my whiskey comes from a plastic jug," Dean agreed, licking his lips to capture what remained of it before it could fall.

Sam, one to focus when it was necessary, leaned forward, setting his own glass aside. "So...Bela? Why was she here?"

Rufus waved him off without concern, reaching for the bottle of scotch. "Wanted to buy a couple of things. It's gonna take me some time to round up."

"Where is she now?" Dean's demand had Rufus turning his attention on him, and Dean awkwardly rubbed the back of his head in thought. "What?"

"Can I ask you something?" Dean nodded and Rufus frowned, saying, "You only got a little time left. Why are you wasting your time chasing after that skinny, stuck-up English girl? Isn't there another one hanging around for you to toy with?"

Dean ignored that last comment in favor of suspiciously demanding, "How do you know about that?"

"Because I know things." Rufus didn't seem concerned about the wary look on the Winchesters' faces. "I know a lot of things about a lot of people, and I know ain't no peashooter gonna save you, boy."

"We're looking," Sam protested, "We're not sure that-"

"That's the job, kid," Rufus said, cutting him off. "Even if you manage to scrape out of this one, there's just gonna be something else down the road. Folks like us...there ain't no happy ending. We all got it coming."

Dean huffed. "Well ain't you a bucket of sunshine?"

"I'm what you've got to look forward to if you survive." Rufus sipped thoughtfully at his glass. "Not that you will."

There was a moment of awkward silence as they studied Rufus and Rufus smirked at them, and then Sam said awkwardly, "So...Bela?"

"Hotel Canaan," Rufus drawled downing what remained of the bottle of alcohol. "Room 39. But watch your back." Dean snorted and he shot the eldest Winchester brother a look. "Don't be so sure that you can handle her so easily, boy. There are things that you don't know about her."

"Oh?" Dean challenged. "And you do? Right. Because you know things. And let me guess...you lift her fingerprint?" Rufus gave a curt nod, still wearing that smug look on his face. "And that got you jack."

"She burnt them off years ago," Rufus said simply.

"So...you're right where we are," Sam said with an exasperated look on his face.

"Nope." Rufus glanced at him. "You do her ear?" Sam gawked at him, and he smirked, repeating, "You do her ear?"

"Hey, man, I don't know about Sammy here, but I'll try anything once. But this one, I don't know. Sounds uncomfortable." Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's comment, muttering about how he needed to shut up for a change.

"Ears are as unique to humans as fingerprints," Rufus explained, setting the empty bottle aside. He leaned over the table, reaching for a folder that was sitting on it. "Of course, that don't fly in the courts over here, but in England, they're all over it. Ask your little skinwalking friend. A friend of a friend of a friend faxed me ten pages of confidential files within a day. All I had to send him was one clean shot off the security camera."

"A shot of her ear?" Sam questioned, bewildered.

"A shot of her ear," Rufus confirmed, sliding a folder to them. "Here's the so-called Bela Talbot."

* * *

"Bloody Winchesters," Alex huffed as she climbed out of the most recently stolen care she'd acquired, sniffing intently for any sign of what she was looking for. She touched the blade that was attached to her arm, making sure it was there, then grabbed her flashlight, making sure it worked.

She'd gotten a text from them not too long ago, stating that they'd gotten some information on Bela that would help them. When she'd called them, demanding answers, Dean had snatched the phone from Sam and told her to focus on Benton before hanging up.

To put it simply, she was not pleased about it.

Alex slipped on a pair of black gloves, then carefully slid a gun full of silver bullets into her belt's holster, leaving it unbuttoned so that she could remove the gun quickly.

And then, Alex set off, making her way towards the cabin that was dark, no lights gleaming from the windows. She watched it closely, her senses on high alert. Her only back up was long gone, and she hadn't exactly made them aware that she was going in.

She entered through the back door, making sure she kept silent. Her sharp ears picked up sounds on the second story, and she carefully noted that. Her gaze landed on a notebook that had been abandoned on a table, it's ratty leather caller falling apart at the seams. She grabbed it, tucking it as best as she could into her bra in hopes that it wouldn't fall out and cursing the lack of pockets on women's jeans.

When Alex discovered nothing important on the first floor, she went back to a set of stairs she'd come across and descended into the cellar of the cabin. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of rotting flesh.

"Ugh," she muttered, taking in the sight of the dead body that was sprawled out on an operating table. She moved on quickly.

When she saw another body, however, she hurried forward, ducking past the curtains that shielded it. She blinked at the sight of a woman who was strapped down to another operating table, her arm held out beside her...and completely covered in maggots.

Alex gagged. She hated maggots. But she forced herself to look. She was missing skin, Alex decided as she gently began to check the woman's pulse.

Just as her fingers landed on the woman's neck, her eyes snapped open and Alex jumped at her gasp. "Sh!" Alex hushed softly, pressing a finger to her lips. "Hush! No need to fret, love, I'm here to help. Can you stay quiet?"

The woman's panicked breathing quieted, and her eyes flashed with relief as Alex began to do her best to bandage the injury, forcing herself to ignore the disgusting maggots. "I'm sorry," she said gently, struggling to undo the straps. "Hush, please."

Alex's ears picked up the sound of a door opening and she tensed, her eyes hardening. The woman began to cry, and Alex hushed her, gently urging her to be quiet. Her attention darted this way and that as she tried to find a way out and her gaze landed on a window.

Thanking the heavens that she was a skinwalker, Alex ripped the straps off and gently scooped the woman up. "Sh," she urged again, scampering for the window. She did her best to open it quietly, and then hauled both herself and the woman out of the window. "Come on," she muttered, sprinting for the car. "Bloody hell, this is terrifying."

What was the worst possibility if she was caught? She supposed that someone might appreciate her eyes...

She shuddered at the thought.

The woman looked a little startled by the fact that Alex was perfectly capable of carrying her with such ease, but only muffled her sobs in her hand. "Watch your head, lady," Alex told her as she quickly shoved her into the passenger seat of her stolen car.

She darted around after shutting the door, throwing herself into the driver's seat. She started the vehicle, getting ready to shift the gears and book it...only for pain to explode through her face as a rough hand grasped her tightly by the hair and slammed it against the steering wheel.

The woman screamed at the sight of Benton, and Alex gritted her teeth, spitting blood and slamming her foot down on the gas pedal.

The car raced forward, and Alex winced at the sound of the screaming woman. "Damn, shut it, would you?" she shouted as the car took off.

She heaved a sigh of relief.

Freedom.

For now.

* * *

The second she turned to close the door behind her, Dean had slammed Bela against it, his arm across her throat, and Sam was quickly beside him, a gun pointed at her temple. "Where's the Colt?" he growled.

Bela only blinked once, then greeted as if there wasn't a gun at her head, "Dean, Sam. How lovely to see you again." Dean glared fiercely, and Sam pressed his lips together as the metal touched her skin. "It's long gone," she huffed. "Across the world by now."

"Liar," Dean accused. He snatched the purse from her, tossing it to Sam, who handed the gun to him and began to dig through it. Sam narrowed his eyes as he came up with nothing, and Bela only rolled her eyes.

"I'll call the buyer," she said. "Speak Farsi, Dean?"

"Sam," he ordered without looking away, "Search the room."

"Got it," Sam agreed without hesitation. Dean kept her pinned against the door, searching for her weapon and taking the gun as Sam went through the process of searching her room for the Colt.

"I told you I don't have it," Bela said calmly, arching an eyebrow at them.

"Oh, because we're definitely going to take your word for it," Sam said sarcastically, and Dean cast his brother a surprised look before returning his attention on the woman before him.

"It's gone," Bela insisted as Sam dumped out a drawer of a dresser. "Get on a plane if you must. Track down the buyer. You might catch up to him...eventually."

Sam finally stopped, glancing at Dean and shaking his head to show that he'd come up with nothing. "It's not here, Dean." The eldest Winchester scowled and prodded Bela in the face with the gun, his eyes cold.

"Are you going to kill me?" Bela mused, not flinching. Dean gave her a look, and she continued. "You're not the cold-blooded type."

"You mean like you?" Dean said with a cold laugh. "That's true. See, as big a bastard as our dad was, I couldn't imagine killing my parents."

Bela stiffened just barely. "I don't know what you're talking-"

"Yes," Sam cut her off, rejoining them. "You do. Fourteen years old maybe? Your parents died in a car accident. The police suspected that someone had slashed the brake line, but the destruction was too much. They couldn't tell. Look at little Bella...I mean, Abby inheriting millions."

"How do you even-"

"Doesn't matter," Dean said.

"They were lovely people," Bela finally said, not looking the least bit bothered as she stared him in the eye. "And I killed them. And I got rich. I can't be bothered to give a damn...just like I don't care what happens to you. Or that little pet of yours."

Sam made a sound of disgust. "How can you even stand yourself?" he muttered, studying something he'd noticed. But then he turned his attention back on his brother and Bela, his face set in a harsh expression. "Come on, Dean. She's not worth it. We need to call Alex, see how she's doing."

"...yeah," Dean muttered. "Whatever."

He shoved Bela aside and stepped through the door after yanking it open. Sam slammed it behind them, leaving a smug looking Bela alone. She snatched her phone out of her pocket and studied the recipt in her hand, humming as she lifted it to her ear.

"It worked," she told the person on the other end. "They found me. The skinwalker wasn't with them, but I know where they are."

Alex was in the middle of swiping the last of the blood from her face after getting the woman she'd saved to the hospital when her phone went off, and she didn't hesitate to pick up, her voice strained as she greeted, "Hullo - bloody _hell_ that hurts." She winced, gently touching her split lip, still bleeding from when Benton had slammed her face into the steering wheel.

"Hello to you, too, Miss Grumpy," Dean replied with a snort of amusement.

"Shut up," she growled, then demanded, licking the blood away. "Did you get the Colt?"

A moment as Sam fought for the phone, and then his breathless voice answering, "Nope. She didn't have it." Alex waited and wasn't surprised when Sam admitted, "She deserves hell for what she's done, but she's not dead."

"In other words," Dean called, voice muffled, "I'm screwed!"

Sam sounded miserable as he murmured, "We're all screwed. The Colt's gone, and there's no way for us to kill the demon..."

"I've got my blade," Alex reminded, patting the spot on her arm. "I don't know if it'll kill who has the contract, but we can try. Anyways, I managed to save a woman from Benton's place." She curled her lip and winced when it tore the wound further. "Nailed my face into the steering wheel, but I was able to get out."

"Did ya kill him?" came Dean's voice again.

"No," she admitted. Alex shoved her bloodied hair out of her face. "But I found a journal in the place. Sam, it has...sciency things in it. It's not black magic, or anything. It's just a hell of a lot of science that would be difficult to figure out."

Sam sounded interested now. "You mean we might be able to use it."

"If you can figure it out...yeah." Alex glanced over her shoulder at the journal, making a face at it. She cringed when it tugged at her wounds and the bruises that were beginning to form. "I think -" She cut off suddenly, alert as a sound filled her ears.

"Alex?"

"Sh," she whispered - and then gave a squawk of surprise when an arm hooked around her neck, trapping her against a rather disgusting smelling chest. A dirtied rag was quickly covering her mouth, and Alex snarled as her vision began to cloud over within seconds.

"Alex!" Sam's voice shouted from her phone.

 _How did he get in without me noticing?!_

The last thing she heard was the sound of the Impala's engine roaring over the phone.

* * *

It was very, _very_ hard to remain calm when you had canine instincts that were screaming at you to flee when you were physically incapable of it, Alex realized as she heaved for breath, her heart thudding wildly in her chest. Her icy eyes darted this way and that as she strained hard against the reinforced straps holding her down.

Usually, she wouldn't have minded the fact that her shirt had been unbuttoned. She'd grown so used to it since becoming a skinwalker, she could have walked around town naked without a care in the world.

But when you were strapped to an old operating table that reeked of blood and agony by pieces of leather that had been reinforced with silver that was currently searing her wherever it touched...

Not good.

"Relax," Benton was saying in his raspy voice, as if it would soothe her. It only made her heart pound faster. "Ain't nothing gonna happen here that you got to worry about...your chances of coming out of this procedure alive aren't very high, but with the healing you can do, I'm sure it'll be okay..."

Like that made her feel any better.

Swallowing thickly and closing her eyes momentarily, Alex managed to spit out, "Sod off you old wanker."

Yep, her the British slang was coming back.

she really needed to figure out a better way to handle her stress.

"You think I'm some kind of monster, don't you?" Benton seemed a little amused by the idea. "Well, I gotta tell you, I have _never_ done one thing that I did not have to do." Something cool touched Alex's flesh, and she bit back a screech when burning pain flooded through her. "You see, this whole eternal-life thing is very high-maintenance. If something goes bad, like my eyes - of course, your eyes are pretty, but not quite what I'm looking for, so I think I'll stick with your heart and some of your blood. Perhaps I'll regain some of my old healing abilities. Anyhow, you replace them." Alex sucked in a shuddering breath when he pulled back for a moment. "Things get damaged, too, of course. Hm...your blood is compatible, so I suppose this will work. Let's get started then..."

The blade dug further in her flesh, and Alex couldn't help the shriek that escaped her when it slid across bone.

It didn't help that it was burning, too. She could smell her blood and burning flesh, and she gagged, nearly vomiting at it.

"Hey!"

 _Bam!_

The sound of a gunshot bought her nearly to tears at the same time that it pissed her off.

 _Damn_ , she'd gotten bad at solo work since she'd joined up with them!

"You okay, Alex?" Sam called, his gun ready to fire again. Dean was beside him, a knife in hand, and Alex could detect the scent of chloroform on the air just barely around the blood.

"As okay as I can be," she said faintly, groaning in relief. "Just feeling a little wonky."

Sam fired off another round of bullets, and Benton only laughed. "Shoot all you want," he crooned, starting forward. Dean slunk off to the side, green eyes never leaving Benton. The second he was distracted by Sam, Dean threw himself forward, plunging a blade into Benton's back, aiming it with care so that it pierced his heart.

Sam put the safety of his gun on and went to help Alex as Benton cackled. "A knife? What part of immortality do you not understand? Pity about the heart...it was new."

"Good," Dean retorted. He glanced over his shoulder as Alex sat up, clutching her naked chest with a pained look, blood pouring from between her fingers. Benton had left a nasty wound there. It started just beneath her collarbone over her left breast, going down nearly four inches, and Dean could have sworn he saw bone.

Turning his attention back on Benton, Dean held up a bottle of chloroform. "Should be pumping nice and strong, sending this stuff throughout your body. See, I picked up your little bottle upstairs and dipped the knife in it."

A second later, Benton collapsed.

"You okay?" Sam asked quietly as Alex tried her best to look down and inspect her injury. "Looks like there was silver in the scalpel he was using..."

"I'm fine, don't touch me," Alex said bitingly, smacking his hands away so that she could shakily stand on her own. Her blue eyes were annoyed. "I don't need you guys running around saving me every five seconds."

"Right," Dean said sarcastically. "Because you totally had that handled."

She glared piercingly at him, saying stiffly, "I don't know how, but he got my blade." She tottered over to where said weapon lay. Her face twisted painfully as she moved to put it away, but she ignored the pain to do so. "Damn it."

Turning away, Dean eyed Benton with a dark look on his face. "Sam. Help me out here. We're gonna strap him down."

"...okay?" Sam moved to help his brother, leaving Alex to scowl irritably at the place she'd been strapped to. She saw the glints of silver in the straps, and she frowned, wondering if he'd managed to catch one of her kind before. Or whatever other kind of supernatural creature was affected by such things.

In no time, they'd strapped Benton to one of his own tables, and Alex felt a tad bit happier about everything, losing the attitude she'd taken on now that she was sure her heart wasn't going to get cut out. "Bloody bastard," she muttered, finally allowing Sam to take a look at the injury, maneuvering her clothing with care. Blood had soaked portions of it, and she pouted. She hated throwing clothes away.

"It'll need stitches," he said apologetically, pulling back. Sam rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Dean's better at it then I am though, so you may want him doing that."

Alex took one look at the eldest brother, then said cheerfully, "I don't want to be groped, so even if you're worse, you'll do just fine."

Dean scowled. "I have morals, woman. 'Sides, you're not groping material. I only grope things that don't turn into a dog."

"Oh?" Alex's gaze turned dangerous. "Like that man last week at the club? I'm sure he enjoyed your drunken adventures a lot."

Dean's sputtering made Sam smirk, even as he did his best to hunt down something to use as a temporary bandage.

Only his brother would get into an unending argument with an equally as stubborn Alex.

He wished it'd never end.

* * *

They were still bickering when Benton woke up what seemed like ages later. Dean was immediately smirking, eyes flashing with irritation towards the...well, whatever he was. "Hi there, Doc," he taunted, "Wakey, wakey, eggs and bac-y."

"Please," Benton pleaded.

Alex snarled at him. "What the bloody hell makes you think we'd spare you? You've been killing people for over a century now...and you nearly took my heart! What makes you think we'd help you?" The skinwalker had gone to sit on the operating table nearby, legs crossed at the ankles, and one hand pressed a piece of shirt she'd ripped off of the button to staunch the bleeding until they could stitch it shut.

"You don't understand," Benton urged. "I can help you...I know what you need."

Dean ignored Benton, crossing his arms and musing aloud, "We might have to cut him up into little bits. This immortality thing is a bitch."

"I can read the formula for you," Benton said with a dark look entering his eyes. "You know, immortality...forever young. You never die."  
Sam's attention had been caught. "Dean."

"Sam," his brother retorted, reluctantly following Dean when he waved his brother to the other side of the room. Alex didn't bother to move. She'd be able to hear from where she was sitting, and someone needed to make sure Benton didn't get out of his bindings. "What?"

"We're talking Hell," Sam said carefully. "In three weeks, Dean. Or needing a new pancreas in like half a century."

"Yeah, well, you can't exactly get those at the gas station, now can you?" Dean snapped.

"It's not perfect, but it buys us more time to think of something better." Sam gave his brother a pleading look, his dark eyes searching Dean's. "We just need time. I mean, please...just think about it."

"No," Dean retorted, ignoring Alex's grumbling and Benton's quiet pleading. "What he is isn't living, Sam. Look, this is simple. Black or white; human, not human." Done with the conversation pretty much, Dean headed back towards Benton, calling over his shoulder, "The Doc is a freakin' monster. I can't do it. I'd rather go to Hell."

Benton began to look just slightly panicked. "You don't understand," he said hastily. "I can help you!"

Dean simply caught the bottle and rag Alex tossed to him and doused it in the substance before slapping it over his mouth. He glanced back at his brother. "We're gonna take care of him. You can either help us or not. Up to you."

* * *

"No! Don't! Stop it, I can help you! No!"

Benton's screams filled the air, muffled, and Alex stared down at the refrigerator that had been chained shut without any concern for the person trapped inside. Dean stood beside her, leaning on a shovel, and Sam was nearby, too, holding his own shovel. "Enjoy forever in there," she said charmingly before stepping back so they could start shoveling the dirt back into the hole.

"Let me out!" Benton wailed. "I can save you! NO! DON'T!"

Alex pretended not to hear, simply ducking her head down to inspect the gash in her chest.

The second she'd picked the lock on the door to the room, Bela removed a gun from her jacket and silently entered the room. Her hand rose and she didn't hesitate to fire off three bullets. One at each of the bodies hidden beneath the covers of the two beds and one to the one covered by a blanket on the couch.

Smirking slyly to herself, she turned on a lamp and went to pull the covers back, pausing to check the time.

Four minutes away from midnight. She had time to spare.

She yanked back the blanket hiding the person on the couch - and then froze.

Rather than a person bleeding heavily, she found herself confronted with a sex doll deflating. When she checked the beds, she found the same thing, and she didn't hesitate when her phone went off in her pocket.

"Hi, Bela," Dean's voice said. "Here's a fun fact you may not know. I felt your hand in my pocket when you swiped that receipt."

"You don't understand," Bela said quietly, her face paling.

"I'm pretty sure you understand perfectly," Dean retorted. "You see, Sam noticed something _very_ interesting in your hotel room, tucked above the door. It was a herb known as...what was it, Sammy?"

"Devil's shoestring," the younger Winchester's muffled voice supplied.

"There's only one use for something like that." Dean's drawling voice grated on her nerves, and Bela scowled. "Holding hellhounds at bay. So you know what I had Alex do? I had her go back and take a look at your folks' obit. Turns out it was ten years ago today that they died. You didn't kill them. A demon did that for you. You made a deal, and it's time for you to hand over what's due."

 _I can take care of them for you. And it won't even cost you anything...not for ten whole years._

"Is that why you stole the Colt? Trying to wiggle out for your deal with our gun for your soul?"

"Yes," she admitted in a whisper.

"But stealing the Colt wasn't quite enough, I'm guessing."

"They changed the deal." Bela inhaled sharply, then sighed. "They wanted me to kill Sam."

" _Really_. Demons untrustworthy. Shocker. That's kind of a tight deadline, too...what time is it? Well, look at that, only a few minutes from midnight."

"Dean," Bela pleaded, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. "Listen, I need help."

"Sweetheart," he drawled. "We are _weeks_ past help."

"I know I don't deserve it."

"You know what? You're right, you don't." Dean snorted, un-amused with Bela's begging. "But you know what the bitch of the bunch is? If you would have just come to us sooner and asked, we probably could have taken the Colt and saved you."

"I know, and save yourself," Bela said bitterly. "I know about your deal, Dean. The demon that holds it told me...she holds mine, too. She said she holds every deal."

"She?"

"Her name's Lilith." Bela heard a snarl from the background of Dean's side of the call, and automatically assumed that it was the skinwalker. Dean muttered, asking why he should believe her, and she said simply, "You shouldn't, but it's the truth."

"This isn't gonna help you, Bela. Not now. Why are you telling me?"

"Because maybe you can kill the bitch," she murmured.

"See you in Hell."

 _Click!_

Bela took a deep breath as she dropped down to sit on a bed, dropping her phone to the ground. All of that money was pointless when it couldn't save your life, she realized, closing her eyes.

The digital clock switched to midnight.

All she could hear was the howling of hellhounds as their hunt began.

* * *

 _Another quick chapter...:D_


	12. No Rest for the Wicked

**|May 29, 2008|**

When Dean's eyes snapped open as he heaved for air, Alex knew better than to say anything. He looked a little panicked as she glanced over to check on him, sitting up and looking down for a moment at the book he'd fallen asleep on, one of many that were thrown carelessly around the room from their unending search for answers. He made a face at the picture on the page.

"You okay?" Alex finally asked, lifting her gaze away from the screen of Sam's laptop, where she'd been doing her own research. Her blue eyes were tired, and the eldest Winchester knew immediately that she'd been up all night as well.

Before he could answer, though, Sam came in, kicking the door shut behind him. "Dig up anything good?" he asked the pair of them.

"Nope," Alex answered as Dean shook his head and closed the book, shoving it off of the table. He stared at his hands for a few moment, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Nothing good," he finally said aloud, clearing his throat and glancing up.

"Well, Bobby has," Sam said, and Alex focused intently on him, looking eager to learn anything if possible. "A way to find Lilith. Finally."

"Oh. With just...uh," he glanced at his watch. "Thirty hours to go." Dean gave a tight smile. "Why don't we just make a TJ-run? You know, some cervezas, some senioritas that aren't puppies-" Alex snarled at him for that. "We could...what's Spanish for "donkey show"?"

"If we do save you," Sam told him, "Let's never do that."

"Bloody hell," Alex muttered, "Winchester's lost his mind at last."

Sam came to sit at the small table with them, and Dean returned his eyes to the pile of books and his brother's laptop. He studied them in silence, not bothering to look up when Sam spoke again. "Dean. We're cutting it close, I know, but we're gonna get this done. I don't care what it takes, Dean. We're not gonna let you go to Hell. I swear. Everything's going to be okay."

"What he said," Alex echoed without looking away from the computer screen. She clicked on something, biting her lips as she began to read through some information, completely unaware of the terrified look that crossed Dean's face for only an instant when Sam's face changed into something that scared him.

"Yeah," he muttered when he realized it was nothing. "Okay."

"So you need a name," Bobby said as he set an older looking tracking device over a map of the country. "That's the whole kit and caboodle. With the right name, right ritual, ain't nothin' you can't suss out."

"Again, with the words I can't understand," Alex grumbled from where she was sitting on a desk not too far away, kicking her shoed feet.

"Like the town Lilith's hiding in?" Sam asked, ignoring her comment.

"Kid, when I get done, we'll know the street," Bobby said tiredly, setting to work on doing the ritual. Dean watched silently as the pendulum that hung off the bottom of the device began to swing and search the map. Alex, curious, cocked her head and hopped off the desk to come and stand beside him, watching as it came to a stop. "New Harmony, Indiana. Looks like we have a winner."

"Alright," Sam said, looking at Bobby. "Let's go."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean frowned at his brother, stopping him before he could move. "Hold on, let's all shut up there for a second."

"What's the problem, Winchester?" Alex said, arching an eyebrow at him.

"What's the problem?" Dean threw his hands up, exasperated. "Where do I begin? I mean, first of all, we don't even know if Lilith holds my deal. We're going off of Bela's intel? When that bitch breaths, the _air_ comes out crooked. Second, even if we could get to Lilith, we have no way to gank her!"

"Gank?" Alex questioned, bewildered.

" _Third_ ," Dean continued. "Isn't this the same Lilith that wants your head on a pike, Sam? Should I continue?"

"Ain't you just bringing down the room," Bobby said sarcastically.

"It's a gift," Dean said with just as much sarcasm.

Sam shoved a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I'm sorry, so then what are we supposed to do, Dean?"

"Just 'cause I gotta die does mean you have to, okay?"

"Oi," Alex cut in, gaze darting between each of the three other people in the room. She folded her arms across her chest, grateful that the wound that had been left on her chest was pretty much gone. "I understand we have a goal to save this bloody moron, but we should go in smart or not go in at all."

"Thank you!" Dean muttered, giving a curt nod of approval at her words.

"If that's the case, then I have the answer. A sure-fire way to confirm it's Lilith and a way to get us a bona fide demon-killing ginsu." Sam looked determined, and Alex groaned in annoyance at that.

"No," she moaned, "There's no way in hell-"

"Damn it, Sam. No." Dean glared at Sam for suggesting such a thing.

"We're past arguing, Dean." Sam glared at his brother as he turned to face him. "I'm summoning Ruby."

"The hell you are!" Dean snapped. "We have enough problems as it is!"

"Exactly," Sam said, crossing his arms. "And we've got no time."

"It's not like it's our last choice," Alex protested, trying to keep the arguing to a minimum.

"Come on, man." Dean was clearly angry, his green eyes frustrated. "She is the Miss Universe of lying skanks, okay? She told you that she could save me...oh, wait. That was a lie."

Alex glanced at the annoyed Bobby as she added hesitantly, "Sam, she knew about Lilith. She conveniently forgot to mention that Lilith is the one who holds his soul...doesn't that make you concerned at all?"

"Okay, okay," Sam muttered reluctantly, "She's a liar. She has that knife though."

"Dean," Bobby input suddenly, capturing Alex's attention but nobody else's.

"She could work for Lilith for all we know!" Dean bellowed.

"Then give me another option, Dean!" Sam snapped back. "I mean, tell me what else!"

"Sam's right." Alex gawked at Bobby, her icy eyes wide as Dean bellowed, "No, _damn it_!" Bobby and Dean glared at each other for a few seconds before Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and gritted out, "Just...no. We're not gonna make the same mistakes all over again. You guys wanna save me...we find something else."

There was a beat of awkward silence. Then Alex scowled darkly and grabbed her leather jacket, yanking it on while Dean grumbled and went to sit down. Sam frowned at her, demanding to know where she was gonig, and Alex growled back, "I'm going to find something else. Don't you dare summon that demon bitch, Sam."

"Hold on a second, Alex," Bobby requested, going to get his own jacket. "I'll come with you."

Sam only glanced at his brother, not looking pleased at all about the situation they now found themselves in.

* * *

Sam studied the space before him, his eyes taking in the symbols he'd drawn as he lit the last candle and prepared himself to summon a certain demon. He didn't care what Dean thought, he'd decided, nor what Alex thought. He was desperate, and that meant doing what was necessary to save his brother.

Within seconds, he'd completed the ritual, and a voice stated, "You know, phones work, too." Sam turned on his heel immediately to face Ruby with a dark look on his face, glaring at the smile she wore. "Hey, Sam. How's it going?"

He cut straight to the point. "Did you know?"

"Gonna need a tiny bit more," she drawled, examining her nails.

"About Dean's deal. That Lilith holds the contract." She didn't answer, and his anger only grew. "You didn't think that was important?!"

"You weren't ready," she mused. Ruby lifted eyes to study him. "If I told you, you three morons would have charged after her half-cocked and Lilith would have peeled the meat from your pretty faces."

Sam crossed his arms. "Well we're ready now. I want your knife."

"You're right about one thing," she said, changing the subject. Ruby began to circle him, looking slightly amused. "You are ready, and now's the time to do it. Lilith's guard is down. She's on shore-leave." She played with a piece of hair, glancing at him again. "You didn't lose those hex bags I gave you?"

"We've got 'em," Sam replied warily. "So are you gonna give us the knife?"

"No."

"But you just said-"

Ruby gave him a look that suggested he was just a little bit insane. "You wanna charge in with one little pig sticker? It's a waste of a true-blue window, Sam. Like getting Hitler with that exploding briefcase. Forget it."

"Then how?" Sam threw his hands into the air out of exasperation, frustrated with her. "And don't say you know how to save Dean, because you don't! You told him you couldn't! You've been lying to me all along, so just give me your damn knife!"

Ruby narrowed her eyes. "You're not the one I've been lying to. " Sam snorted, a scowl appearing on his face as he clenched his jaw, and she rolled her eyes. "Sam, you've got some God-given talent." Her face twisted into a wry smirk. "Well, not _God_ -given, but you get the gist."

"All that psychic crap?" Sam remembered the visions he'd had long ago well. "Gone. Since Yellow-Eyes died."

"Not gone," Ruby corrected, shaking her head so that her blonde hair fell around her face. "Dormant. And not just visions either. Why do you think Lilith is so scared of you?"

"Right." His voice was sarcastic now. "She's _scared_ of me."

Ruby glared at him, annoyed with his tone. "If you wanted, you could wipe her right off the map without moving a muscle." Sam snorted in disbelief. "It's the truth, Sam."

"Desperate enough?" he challenged.

"You don't like being different." The demon shrugged carelessly, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You hate the way Dean looks at you sometimes. Like you're some kind of sideshow freak...but suck it up, because you've got a lot of ground to cover, and we've gotta do it fast. We can do it." Sam kept his gaze on the floor, gritting his teeth in annoyance. "Look," she drawled, "Call me a bitch. Hate me all you want, but I never lied to _you_ , Sam. Not ever. And I'm telling you. You can save Dean, and I can show you how."

"So that's you? Our slutty little Yoda."

Sam's head snapped around at the sound of his brother's voice, and a soft curse escaped him when Dean continued. "Aw, I knew you'd show up. Because I knew _someone_ wouldn't listen." Dean sent Sam a glare as he crossed his arms, stepping out of the shadows. His green eyes were hard with anger. "You're not gonna teach him anything, you understand me? Over my dead body."

"Oh," Ruby hummed, "Well you're right about that..."

"What you _are_ going to do is give me that knife." Dean gave her a hard look. "And then you can just go crawl back into whatever slop you came from and never bother me, my brother, or the mutt again. Are we clear?"

"Look at you, including a dog in the deal," she taunted. Dean ignored that, un-amused. "Your brother is carrying a bomb inside of him, and we'd be stupid not to use it."

"Dean," Sam started, protesting his brother for just one moment. "Look, just hold on-"

"Don't Sam," Dean snarled angrily. He glared furiously at his brother. "Come on, man! What are you? Blind? This is a god damn trick!" Ruby huffed, going to protest, but Dean cut her off. "She wants you to give into this whole demonic psychic whatever. I mean, hell! She probably wants you to become her little anti-Christ super star!"

Ruby scowled. "I want Lilith dead, that's all."

"Why?" the eldest of the two brothers challenged.

"I've told you why!"

"Oh, right," Dean snapped, his tone disgusted. "because you were once human, like us, and you supposedly remember what it's like."

"You know, I'm so sick of proving myself to you and the rest of your little clan of pathetic excuses for hunters. You wanna save yourself? This is how, you dumb spineless dick."

There was a moment of silence, and then Dean shook his head and turned to leave.

Right before he swung around and slammed a fist into her face, his own looking enraged. Before Sam could make any sort of complaint or try to stop them, the two were exchanging blow after blow. Ruby didn't hesitate to throw him to the ground, smirking when he slammed down hard enough to drive the breath out of him.

Sam decided to try and intervene at that point. "Ruby!" he snapped, stepping forward.

He immediately received a fist to the face as well, and he spat blood, holding his mouth with shock on his face as he watched Ruby quite literally beat the hell out of his brother.

Suddenly, however, a moment later, Dean grinned.

"The hell are you grinning at?" Ruby snarled, her face darkened with a furious rage.

"Missing something?" Dean waved the knife that had once been her's mockingly and she bared her teeth in a feral way, enraged as she threatened to kill him. She lunged forward - only to slam into a wall that wasn't there. Her gaze shot to the roof immediately, and if she'd looked furious before, she was beyond that now. She glared at the symbol that decorated the ceiling of the basement as Dean drawled, "Like I said...I knew you'd come."

Sam simply gawked at the devil's trap, stunned.

Dean shrugged, turning away. "C'mon, Sam, we got stuff to do." He rubbed his jaws as he started up the stairs, heading back for the first floor of the house, the knife in his hand. Sam followed silently, his lips pressed together.

"Wait!" Ruby said, sounding astonished. "You're just...you're gonna leave me here?" When she didn't receive an answer, she scowled again, glowering at him from where she was trapped. She was seething with rage, and he knew it, yet he ignored her completely. "You're just too stupid to live, is that it? Then fine!" She threw her head back and laughed mockingly. "You deserve Hell! I wish I could be there, Dean! I wish I could smell the flesh sizzle off your bones! _I wish I could be there to hear you scream!_ "

"And I wish you'd shut your little trap, b ut we don't always get what we want, now do we?" Dean shot back.

There was a smirk on his face as he climbed the stairs, a smug little look as he thrust the blade he'd managed to steal into a special spot in his leather jacket.

 _Bitch_.

* * *

"We're just going to let Ruby rot down there?"

Dean arched a brow as he picked up his gun, loading it with silver bullets. The next gun he picked up, he put in iron bullets, and he continued doing it, filling each gun with different kinds of bullets in an attempt to try and find some kind of solution. "That's the idea."

"Dean," he protested, "What if she's right? What if I could take out Lilith?"

Dean paused, and then slammed his gun down angrily, glaring at him almost doubtfully. Sam glared back. "What?" the eldest brother finally huffed. "You gonna give her the Carrie-stare and Lilith gets to poof?"

"I don't know what she meant," Sam admitted, "But you know, maybe we could just go ask her-"

"Sam, we have the freaking knife. We don't need anything else she's offering!" Dean set his gun down after clicking the safety on, and then moved onto the next weapon. "We aren't going to try anything that won't work for certain."

"Dean," Sam pleaded as he followed his brother. "Listen. Last time she snapped her fingers and put thirty demons on our ass. All we have is one little knife. I mean...like you said! We need to go in smart or not at all!"

"This ain't smart, Sammy," Dean said without a hint of emotion. He glanced over at him, green eyes glinting. "Sam. We're _not_ going to be making the same mistake all over again."

"What does that even _mean_?" he said, exasperated. He crossed his arms, and Dean silently decided that he looked like a pouty child being told he couldn't get some new toy.

"Don't you see a pattern?" Dean went back to loading weapons as he spoke, voice quiet. "Dad's deal...my deal...now this? I mean every time one of us is...up the creek, the other is begging to sell their soul. That's all this is. Ruby's just jerking your chain down the road, Sammy, and you know what it's paved with, and you know where it's going." He dropped down to sit in a chair, putting the gun back down as Sam shook his head in disagreement.

Sam sat across from him, glancing over to make sure that neither Bobby or Alex had returned yet. "What do you think is gonna happen?" he said quietly. "I can handle it."

Dean scowled. "Why even risk it?" Sam's answer came quickly and firmly, and a swell of emotion flooded him. "Look how that turned out, Sammy. All I'm saying is that we're each other's weakspots. The mutt's not included in this, by the way. Just you and me and _maybe_ Bobby. And those evils sons of bitches know it. They're using it against us."

"So what?" Sam growled, "We just stop looking out for each other?"

"We stop being martyrs, man," Dean corrected. He picked up the knife and twirled it expertly, years of experience allowing him to do such a thing. "We take this knife, and we go after Lilith the way Dad taught us to. And if we go down, then at least we go down swinging. You with me?"

Sam blinked a few times as he stared at his brother. Suddenly, he gave a choked laugh, pressing a hand over his eyes and shaking his head. "I think you totally should have been jamming to "Eye of the Tiger" right there."

"Bite me," he said back, smiling happily at the fact that his brother was on board with him. "Totally rehearsed that, too. Indiana." Sam looked up, peeking between his fingers like a child playing peek-a-boo. "Tell me something, Sammy...what's a demon do for fun?"

* * *

Outside, Sam and Dean loaded the Impala up with their weapons of choice, and Dean left his brother to do so. He twirled the keys around his finger, and then slid into the driver's seat to start the car, only to stop when it didn't even make a sound. Sam glanced questioningly into the car, and he frowned, trying again.

Suddenly, there was a breath on his ear, and a voice cooed, "And where the hell do you think you're going, Winchester?"

Dean swore, nearly falling right out of the car in shock as Alex glared at him, chin resting on the seat with an angry look in her icy eyes. His own darted towards Sam, only to discover an irritable Bobby dealing with him. Huffing, he told them, "We got the knife."

"And you intended to use it without me," Bobby retorted. Alex slid from the car and danced over to stand beside him, hands on her hips. "Do I look like a ditchable prom date to you?"

"No, of course not," Sam protested, but that only made Alex growl, showing her teeth aggressively.

"And what about me?" she challenged. "You didn't just drive six hours west to help my family for no reason a while back. So...am I not allowed to return the bloody favor?"

"Look," Dean grumbled as he climbed to his feet, burshing himself off. "This is about me and Sam. Mostly me. It's not your fight."

"The hell it isn't!" Bobby snapped, looking hurt by Dean's words. "Family doesn't end with blood!"

"Bobby-"

"How many?" Alex said suddenly, her eyes locking on Dean. She licked her lips thoughtfully when he looked her way and she rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. How many hallucinations?"

Sam looked over in confusion, then looked to Bobby. "What's she talking about?"

Dean scowled. "How'd you know?"

"You've got hellhounds after you, sweetheart," she taunted. "And because Mr. Singer is incredibly and brilliantly smart when it comes to helping with research."

Bobby tossed something to Dean, who caught it. He stared at the piece to his car with a shocked look, and then exchanged a look with Sam. Sam shrugged helplessly; he hadn't ratted them out, why would he?

"I'll follow," the older hunter said simply, turning and making his way over to his own car. "And Alex is riding with you freaks to make sure you don't leave me in the dust. Don't forget, Dean, I know you two idjts better than you think. I can hunt you down if I have to."

Alex beamed. "Don't worry, you won't have to," she promised.

Dean only groaned in exasperation and stormed over to the front of his car, where he went to work on fixing his car so that it would work. Smoothing a hand lovingly over the hood of the Impala in thought and wearing a longing look, he shoved the hood up and set to work.

 _Tick tock_ , he thought drily.

Time was ticking, and they had a demon bitch to hunt.

* * *

The drive was a long one. And it was pissing him off beyond belief.

Alex was in the backseat, dozing the entire way, feet propped up and practically hanging out the window. She hadn't dared to shift into her canine form to be more comfortable; she didn't want to risk the seats with her nails. Every now and then, she'd felt the glares in the mirror, the scowl that crossed his face as he thought of something unpleasant.

In contrast, Sam didn't seem all that bothered. Alex guessed he was relieved to have some extra help in trying to save his brother.

It was while this was going on that the piercing sound of sirens filled her sensitive ears.

Alex shrieked in surprise, slamming her hands over her ears as Dean snickered and simply pulled over like he was supposed to. Sam looked a bit confused about the matter. "The hell?"

"Busted tail-light," Dean said with a shrug. "Not like we're in a hurry."

Alex listened to the upcoming footsteps of the cop and hurried to buckle herself in so that they didn't get in trouble for _that_. She supposed she could have shifted. That would have been a lot easier than fumbling with a seat belt for a few seconds.

"Problem, officer?" Dean asked as he rolled the window down.

Alex's nose was immediately overwhelmed with the smell of sulfur.

Growling under her breath, she listened to Dean and the "cop" exchange a few words. Sam glanced back at her in silence only to see that her face was hard, her teeth bared and eyes flashing with anger.

"As a mater of fact..." Dean suddenly trailed off and then nailed the man with the car door, rushing out after him. Sam swore and dove out of the car to try and yank Dean off of him, and Alex scrambled into the front seat to hop out herself.

Dean wrestled with the officer for a moment before cracking a fist across his jaw. He swore when his knuckles flashed with pain, and then yanked the blade hidden in his jacket free to thrust it into the demon's chest, driving it in as hard as he could. The demon screamed in agony before going limp.

He sat back, panting, and Alex jumped when she heard another car pull up behind the cop car. She whirled around, ready to strike with her blade, only to discover that Bobby had appeared, his eyes flashing with shock at the sight before him as he climbed out of the car.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded.

"Winchester nailed a demon," Alex explained, licking her lips. She glanced questioningly at the heavily breathing Dean, and then looked up at Sam with a worried look.

"...just knew," he said finally. "I could see its face. Its real face. Ugly bastard."

There was a tight smile on Sam's face as he told his brother, "Well, we need to hide the body. Alex, you mind helping me drag it? The little old man needs a break."

"Har, har," Dean said sarcastically as he moved out of the way, letting Sam grab a sleeve. Alex rolled her own up smugly and winked before easily going to work on hauling the body alongside him, determined to hide it. She matched the man who towered over her with ease in strength, and paused when they heard a car start.

"Bobby's bringing the cop car," Sam explained expertly as they dumped the body.

"Oh," Alex hummed. "You freaks worry about that. I'll take care of this." She didn't hesitate to begin stripping her shirt off, smirking when Sam huffed and immediately turned around, taking her clothes as she shoved them at him. She thought she saw a flush on his cheeks when her underwear was shoved into his grasp, and snickered before shifting.

Shaking her fur out after the transformation had ended, Alex flicked her tail, took a deep whiff, and then began to dig as quickly as she could, powerful front legs pummeling at the earth. She heard Sam shove her clothes at Bobby so that he could help his brother hide the car.

"So you can see demons now?" Sam questioned, and Dean shrugged thoughtfully. He gave a muffled response about seeing things, and Alex huffed impatiently when his answer wasn't as clear as she would have liked.

"It's not actually all that crazy," Bobby said almost thoughtfully, not at all bothered by the holding of Alex's clothes. He gave her an approving nod as she gingerly grabbed the body with her jaws and dragged it into the decent hole she'd made. She hopped out of the hole and went to work on covering it again, her face covered in dirt. "You've got...what? Five? Five hours to go. You're piercing the veil, Dean, seeing the other side."

"Repeat that in a language I can understand?" Dean muttered, tossing branches over the cop's car.

"You're almost Hell's bitch," he said bitingly, annoyed with the eldest Winchester. "You can see the other bitches. On the other hand, it'll be useful."

"Aw, thanks, Bobby," Dean gritted out sarcastically. "Glad to know my doomed soul is good for something."

Alex trotted over as they spoke, shaking the dirt off of her fur and turning before shifting, snatching her clothes up. _No time to be decent_ , she decided as she yanked her clothes on, ignoring Dean's smug little look as he watched. "The bitch has probably got demons everywhere. If they sound the alarm, we're dead before they see us, so your little ability will help us keep from being seen."

"Exciting, can we _go_?" he muttered, turning away once she'd yanked her shoes back on. He crossed his arms. "The longer we wait, the less time we have."

"Right," Sam muttered. "Let's go."

* * *

Much, _much_ later in the evening found a thoughtful Dean examining the only normal seeming family through a pair of binoculars. Sam stood beside him, and Bobby nearby with a canine Alex, whose nose was in the air, seeking out any scents they needed to be wary of. She sneezed quietly.

It reeked of sulfur.

"It's the little girl," Dean said finally. "Ugly little face she's got there." He handed the binoculars to Sam, who tucked them away.

"Alright then," he said firmly. "We're wasting time, let's get a move on." He moved to start forward, only for Alex to slide in front of him, her tail whisking anxiously behind her as she nearly tripped him. "Watch it, Alex!"

"No, she's right," Dean hissed as Bobby raised an eyebrow at her. "See the mailman at nine o'clock?" He gestured to a man who wasn't far down the streets, sorting through mail with a thoughtful look. "And that guy. Over there." This time, he pointed to an elderly man who was simply smoking a pipe on his porch, reading a book. "Demons."

"So what you suggest we do?" Bobby asked. His gaze studied the situation with the expertise only years of hunting could give someone.

"Ninja pass 'em," Sam supplied, "Sneak in."

"Then what?" Dean demanded. "Pounce on a ten year old girl? Come on, man!"

"It's awful, I know," his brother protested, "But this isn't just about saving you. This'll save a lot of people."

"She's gotta be stopped, son," Bobby agreed quietly, and Alex jerked her head quickly, fur quivering in the breeze.

"Damn it," was all Dean said. He stood there in silence, close to his brother for a few moments before his head snapped up. "I got an idea...let's try this..."

It wasn't long before they'd put Dean's new plan in action.

Aware of her part in the plan, Alex slunk off side by side with Dean, determined to keep the eldest Winchester safe for the time being. Even if they weren't the best of friends, she recognized the somewhat trust between them; she'd have his back, even if he didn't have hers, and that was something both were well aware of, though Dean claimed to not trust her for a second.

"Ready?" he muttered as they watched Sam slide behind a house, waiting.

Alex gave a soft and confirming woof, crouching down.

Dean gave it a moment before purposely slamming his knee into a fence beside them, and the mailman - the demon - snapped its head around to stare at them. Dean pretended to be shocked, a deer in the headlights, and then tore off with the demon right behind. Alex lunged after him snarling and snapping at the demon's heels. It whirled around with a scowl to latch strong arms around her neck, aiming to snap it, but while she had its attention, Sam swung out with Ruby's blade, driving it between the demon's shoulder blades.

Alex squirmed out from under the demon's body, tail flicking and her hackles raised angrily.

"Sorry," Sam uttered, glancing around to see if they'd been seen. "I'll go deal with Mr. Rogers over there on the porch. You guys hide this sucker."

"Got it," Dean agreed. Alex latched her jaws on the dead man's shoulder and began to haul his body backwards, snarling at Dean when he simply watched lazily for a few moments.

They eventually managed to deal with the body, and it wasn't long before she was panting for breath, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth as she trotted beside him, both making their way towards where Sam was openly dealing with the pre-mentioned demon. Alex glanced around for Bobby; the older hunter was nowhere in sight, busy with putting holy water into the sprinklers.

It was while they were making their way in the direction of Sam to help him with the body that Dean suddenly swore, a hand darting out to slam him viciously against a privacy fence. Alex snarled and immediately lunged at their attacker, her teeth bared.

"Back off, mutt," Ruby hissed, her hands tight around Dean's throat. "I'd like my knife back, please. Or I'll snap your fuking neck like a chicken bone."

Alex stood there, fur bristling and a growl in her throat as she flashed her teeth in aggression, uncertain of how to reach Ruby's own throat without letting her kill Dean before his time.

A glint in the darkness helped her calm down as the knife she was looking for suddenly appeared at her throat. A dark-eyed Sam glared at her as he ordered, "Take it easy. He doesn't have it."

Ruby swallowed, releasing Dean with clear reluctance. Alex slid between them, her side brushing against the Winchesters' knees as Sam slid around to stand beside his brother, both glaring at the demon. "How the hell did you get out?" Dean rasped, rubbing his throat in thought.

Ruby gave a cold smirk. "What you don't know could fill a bible, Dean."

"Yeah, yeah - holy hell," he suddenly said, smirking as his eyes widened. His gaze darted away, flicking back every now and then. "You're one ugly son of a bitch."

Ruby bared her teeth similarly to Alex. "Sam, just give me the damn knife before you cut yourself."

"I'll give it back when we're done," he retorted.

"It's already _done_ ," she seethed. "I gave you a way to save the idiot and you shot me down! Too late now. He's dead. And I won't let you die, too."

Alex grumbled irritably, and she only glared hatefully at the skinwalker, clear in her intent to get the "mutt" killed as well.

"Try and stop me," Sam challenged. "Bitch."

"Hit me with your best shot, baby," Ruby purred back, only to be cut off when a snarl escaped Alex. All of them looked over to discover a pair, what might have been a man and his child, standing on their porch staring at them. The next house over, there was another demon, and a couple across the street.

"So much for the element of surprise," Dean said bitterly, glaring accusingly at Ruby.

"Go!" Sam ordered, shoving Dean forward. Alex yelped when he tripped over her for a second, scrambling forward. She raced after the pair as they shot towards the house Lilith was hiding in, Ruby not far behind with a huff. The demons sprinted after them.

Sam nearly tripped over his own feet climbing the stairs of the porch, shoving a hand into his pocket for his lock pick. "What the hell is taking Bobby?" Dean bellowed as he fumbled with the pick.

"I'm trying," Sam hissed. Alex growled impatiently, pacing.

Suddenly, there was a soft sound and the sprinklers sprang to life. A demon that had sprinted onto the lawn fell with a scream, smoke leaving her body. Dean smirked, and then laughed as demons gathered around the lawn. "Good job, Bobby!" he praised, pumping a fist.

That laughter vanished the second they set foot in the house, Sam nudging the door open after finally succeeding. He dug Alex's clothes out of a pack on his back, shoving them at her as she shifted into her humanoid form, her lips curved into a smirk as she tugged her jeans on.

His laughter wasn't gone because of her though, she realized as she turned and nearly tripped over the body that was sprawled across the floor.

"You think she knows we're here?"

"Probably," Ruby uttered, looking around. Sam slid into a room, the knife at the ready, and Dean slid after him. Alex pulled her own weapon out, twirling it as she indicated that Ruby should go next. And she did, Alex slipping in behind her.

The two caught up in time to see Dean slap a hand over a terrified man's mouth. He jumped and Dean shushed his scared sounds away as he whispered into his ear, "We're here to help. We're gonna talk nice and quiet, kay?"

He nodded, and when Dean removed his hand, he whispered mournfully, "It's not her anymore. My daughter..."

"Where is she?" Sam questioned.

"Bedroom," he murmured, "Upstairs."

"Okay," Dean said carefully. "Listen to me. Go downstairs to the basement and put a line of salt at the door behind you, do you understand me?"

"Not without my wife," he began to argue, and Dean, in no mood to deal with people's protests, simply decked him, knocking him out immediately. Alex growled softly in disapproval, but he ignored her and swung the man over his shoulder, jerking his head in the direction of the stairs. "Sam."

"On it," he muttered and headed for the stairs. Ruby slid after him, refusing to let her blade out of her sight.

Alex arched an eyebrow as she opened a door for the eldest Winchester. "Trusting me, are we?"

"Shut up and get the salt, puppy," he muttered, annoyed.

She did just that and within no time, they'd finished making sure that the owner of the house was safe. Alex tucked the salt into her pocket somehow, and together, they jogged quietly towards the stairs, darting up them to join Sam and Ruby.

The second they were in the room, Dean lunged forward, however, swearing and snatching up his brother's wrist just a second before he plunged the knife down towards a sleepy child, the mother quivering in fear.

"What the hell, Dean!" Sam snapped, and then nearly jumped when the girl screamed and burst into tears, sobs leaving her lips.

"It's not her!" Dean replied, shaking his head violently. "It's not the girl anymore!"

* * *

"Alright, no matter what you hear," Alex told the mother gently, her hands on her shoulders and a kind look in her blue eyes. "You and your daughter and your bloke need to stay in the basement." She pushed her towards the basement door, and then closed the door after making sure that the salt was properly set. "Kay. Now what?"

Ruby's lips curved into a smirk. "Well, I hate to be the one to say I told you so, but...I told you so."

"Where is she, Ruby?" Sam demanded tiredly, the knife still in hand.

"I don't know," she snipped, and leaned against a counter in the kitchen that housed the basement's entrance. Alex watched Dean's expression tighten with anger towards the demon and gave a growl herself.

"Could she get past the sprinklers?"

"She ain't sweating the holy water," Ruby chimed back, not the least bit concerned.

Alex saw it coming a second before he spoke. "What do I have to do, then? You win. Tell me." Ruby blinked, confused, and he clarified, "To save Dean - ouch!" He rubbed the back of his head and gave his brother a glare when he whacked him over the back of the head.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Sam?" Dean snapped.

"Shut up for a second," Sam retorted, "Tell me, Ruby!"

Alex's lips twitched when Dean's green eyes flashed with a brief rage at the fact that he'd been told to shut up. But her eyes proceeded to lock on the clock in the living room as they meandered into it, somehow still talking and arguing while doing so, and her heart twisted at the sight.

Only minutes were left.

She wasn't fond of Dean. Well, maybe she was. She admired his ability to ignore his fate for the most part.

And she didn't want him to die and go to Hell.

In no way did he deserve that.

Dean had apparently come to the realization that nothing was going to happen to change his fate by this point and said fiercely, grabbing Sam's shoulder and giving him a little shake. "You're going to let me go to Hell, Sam. I'm sorry. This is all my fault, and I...I know that. But what you're trying to do? It's not gonna save me. It's gonna kill you."

Sam looked miserable as he demanded, "Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Keep fighting," Dean replied. He glanced at Alex, who gave a curt nod. She'd try her damn hardest to take care of his little brother, just like she'd promised. Her blue eyes held not a trace of the emotion that suddenly swelled in her heart. "Take care of my wheels. Remember what Dad taught you...okay, Sammy?"

Sam nodded.

"And remember what I taught you," he added softly.

Suddenly, the clock chimed midnight.

Sam gave him a look that broke Alex's heart, and she took a step forward as Dean gave a tiny smile, clearly struggling to keep himself calm as the sounds of something they couldn't hear filled his ears. His head snapped around, and his gaze locked on a spot. "Hellhound. There."

Alex tightened her grip on her blade. She could smell the shift in the air, even if she couldn't see it. Dean's smile was long gone. Ruby's face twisted as she stared, and suddenly, Dean whirled and bolted. Ruby wasn't far behind and Sam dove after them. Alex hesitated only briefly before turning and charging forward. She slammed the doors shut behind her, pressing her back against them.

Thanking the heavens when Sam darted over to join her, helping her pin the doors shut. Dean went to work on spreading dust around the room to try and keep the hellhounds from getting in, and Ruby shouted over the noise, "Give me the knife! Maybe I can fight it off!"

Alex gave her an incredulous look. "Are you bloody kidding me?" she shouted.

"Come on," Ruby urged, "It won't last forever!"

Alex went still as the force throwing itself against the door stopped, and it clicked in her mind as Sam moved to hand over the blade.

"Don't!" she shrieked, lashing out with her blade. "That's-"

Ruby paused, and then sighed, flicking her wrist. Alex cut off and was sent flying with a yelp and Dean whirled around to attack, but she did the same to him as well. Dean grunted as he was slammed onto a table and trapped there. Ruby's face lit up and her eyes rolled back, revealing white instead of the black of normal demons.

Lilith giggled. "Haven't been using this body long...but I like it. It's all grown up and pretty."

"And where's Ruby," Sam demanded angrily.

Lilith glanced at him, her eyes returning to their normal state. "She was a very bad girl, so I sent her far, _far_ away," she purred.

"You know," Dean drawled, grunting as he tried to force himself upright but unable to. "I should have noticed, but you all look like a bunch of ugly sons of bitches to me."

Lilith's smile faltered just barely, and Alex growled softly when she turned towards Sam, her feet kicking desperately to free her. "Hello, Sam," she continued as she made her way over to him. Ignoring his protests, she grabbed his chin. "I've been dying to meet you."

Alex made a sound of disgust when Lilith forced a kiss onto the poor Winchester, who yanked free finally.

"Your lips are soft," the demon hummed.

"Let Dean go," he demanded.

Lilith giggled again and tapped her lower lip, almost stroking it. "Silly goose. You want to bargain, you have to have something that I want, and neither you nor the skinwalker do."

"So this is your big plan, eh?" Dean gritted out. "Drag me to Hell, kill Sam. And then what? You the queen of bitches? 'Cause if that's the case, you'll have to deal with the mutt."

"Wanker," Alex bit out.

"I don't have to answer to puppy chow," Lilith mused. "But I'm sure there's a special place in Hell for the skinwalker. Always looking for experimentation subjects. They're good for figuring out the best ways to hurt people..." Alex's eyes snapped over to her when she slid over to the door, purring, "Sic 'em, boy," just a split second before opening the door.

"No!" Sam shouted, but it was too late.

He and Alex couldn't see the hellhound, but they could sure as hell see Dean scream in pain as it grabbed him and dragged him from the table she'd pinned him too, not hesitating to set to work on ripping into him.

" _Stop it_!" Sam bellowed as Lilith laughed, watching eagerly.

Alex made a strangled sound as tears sprang to her eyes.

No one deserved this kind of death except maybe Lilith herself.

Dean's screams suddenly cut off, his breathing ragged and Sam howled for Lilith to stop; Alex's mouthed the words in agreement, her heart pounding in her chest as Dean simply lay there, no longer struggling against the creature as it shredded him.

"No," Sam whispered.

"Yes," Lilith purred back and then lifted a hand. Alex began to struggle again, terrified as white light began to spring into existence, gathering around her fingertips in a dangerous wave of agonizing heat - until she stopped.

Confusion filled her face first, followed quickly by shock. Sam scrambled backwards and pressed his face, huddled fearfully with his hands in front of his face as he pressed into a corner. Alex suddenly found herself freed and she collapsed to her knees, blade clattering against the floor.

Lilith took a step back, and then whispered something as Sam looked at her and climbed to his feet, her face twisting with fear. "Back," she breathed.

He took a deep breath and stepped towards her hesitantly, and then again. Alex lined her blade up with her arm and then crawled on her hands and knees to check for Dean's pulse, knowing deep down that there would be none.

"Back, I said _back_ ," Lilith gasped as Sam scooped up Ruby's knife and moved closer.

"I don't think so," Sam hissed, his expression twisted with hatred. He moved to lunge and stab her, but before he could, Lilith left, smoke exploding out of what had once been Ruby's body before it crumpled, dead.

Sam stumbled over to where Alex was sitting there limply, tears gathered on her eyelashes as she looked up at him. He was soon crying as well, looking like the little brother that he was to the now dead Dean. He dropped beside her and cradled Dean's head against him, breathing, "No..."

Alex buried her face in her hands.

She'd held a reluctant respect towards the eldest Winchester, even if he'd hated her. She'd even liked him at times.

And now...

Dean Winchester was dead.

* * *

 _Another quick chapter...:D_


	13. Wanderer

**|July 4, 2008|**

 _Boom!_

The sound of whistling and cracking, of exploding and whistles that pierced her eardrums filled the air. A faint smile was on her face as her icy eyes watched the beautiful explosion of color well above her head. Her red-blonde hair had been tied out of her face, and she sat atop the hood of a decent looking cherry red car, watching the distant fireworks that filled the night sky despite the lateness of the evening.

It had been just over a month since she'd watched the hellhounds tear apart a damn good hunter.

A month since Sam Winchester had lost his older brother and a month since Bobby Singer, who stood near the door of his house, studying the fireworks in the sky with a quiet expression, had lost the man he saw as a son.

It had been a long month, too.

Alex took a sip of her whisky, the drink burning its way down her throat - something she admittedly appreciated. It was nice to feel pain like that; it was a pain that wouldn't kill her if she moved wrong. She was still healing from the last hunt that she'd taken with dear old Sammy.

She sneered at his name in her head, disgusted with what he'd become.

Grief, she understood better than most people.

This insane need to _destroy_? Yes.

But the serious determination he felt to bring Dean back, even after being rejected by the demon he'd summoned to make a deal? It was something that had brought out a side she hadn't expected. Sam was nowhere near as cheerful and playful as he'd been when Dean had been around. He'd grown dark and quiet.

He'd begun to disappear every now and then, leaving her in the middle of a hunt despite knowing it was one that she was unlikely to be able to handle on her own.

For example, their last hunt.

He'd run off in the middle of the night, leaving her to fight off a vengeful vetala after he'd started the fight against its partner earlier in the day, killing it without mercy. She'd been burned by the silver she'd been forced to use at the last second, and she was sure the mark on her hand would scar badly. The knife had been knocked from her hand and had sliced her hand when it had come after her.

He'd shown up just as she'd somehow - miraculously - flung herself at the knife, severely hurting her hands as she'd fought to drive it into the other supernatural creature's eye. She'd just barely succeeded.

No thanks to Sam.

It was the reason that she'd come back to Bobby's and dragged him with her. She hadn't known what else to do. Bobby wasn't faring well either, she'd realized shortly after arrival, but he was at least keeping himself busy in non-suspicious ways, helping Alex with research and the likes. He was half-drunk most of the time, but he wasn't entirely unpleasant.

Alex took another sip of her whisky and then skimmed her fingers over the car that she sat on. She was working on it herself with Bobby's occasional instruction or - if Sam was in a good enough mood - a suggestions or two from him. The rest of her information came from the internet on the laptop that she'd stolen from the younger Winchester, and she was pretty proud of the work she'd done.

It was an old 1960 Alfa Romeo Giulietta Spider, a convertible that's top came on and off. The top was off at the moment due to Alex having spent her evening working on polishing up the interior, and she adored the vehicle. Bobby had gifted it to her after finding it among the several junky cars that filled his property, telling her that he thought it'd suit her.

And it did. Alex adored it. It was perfect for her, in the way that the Impala had been perfect for Dean when he'd been around. She'd been disappointed when Sam had changed various things about the radio, scolding him for "hurting" the beautiful vehicle.

She had yet to name her beloved car, and she'd considered a few names, but hadn't come up with one.

 _Boom!_

Alex let her lips curl into a grin at the sight of the beautiful blue and white above her. The sound hurt her sensitive ears, but the alcohol helped to numb the pain thank the heavens.

It numbed a lot of pain, actually.

 _Boom!_

The skinwalker exhaled sharply when she heard the familiar sound of the Impala's engines barely over the fireworks, grimly amused.

Did Sam really think she wouldn't notice him leaving again?

"And on a holiday, too," she sighed, sliding from the hood of her beloved car to make her way over to where Bobby was watching the fireworks. She smiled faintly upon reaching him, her whisky in hand. Choosing not to say anything about Sam's whereabouts, she offered her flask wordlessly.

Bobby took it without hesitation and took a swig. Handing it back, he said gruffly, "Damn fireworks are too loud."

"You sound like an old man," Alex told him lightly, leaning back against the front door with a thoughtful look in her icy eyes. "Did you find anything on that case I was telling you about? The one with the demons in Cheyenne, Wyoming?"

"Yeah." Bobby waved for her to follow him, and Alex opened the door for him. He slid inside and she wasn't far behind, her bare feet padding softly on the floor. As they walked, he spoke, explaining. "Turns out there's been more than a few sightings over the last couple years. Black-eyed people runnin' around when the night comes along. They ain't doing much more than just...watchin' from what I've found."

"That's not normal," the thoughtful woman muttered under her breath. Alex stroked her lip thoughtfully with her finger, and then shrugged her slim shoulders and took another drink of whisky. "Anything else?"

"Not really. No deaths that were suspicious." Bobby stopped at his desk and shuffled around in it for a moment before pushing some papers at her. She scanned them, setting the flask down and pretending she didn't see the way Bobby eyed it. "Strange," she mumbled finally, shaking her head and lowering the papers. "I'll go check it out with Sam tomorrow."

Bobby hesitated. "Are you sure that's a good idea, Alex?"

Alex froze with her flask half-way to her mouth. "What do you mean?"

"Sam isn't getting any better. Our best bet would be to trap him here at this rate. Make sure he's right in the head."

Alex snorted, choking on her drink. After clearing her throat and trying to make the burning go away by coughing, she ran her fingers through her hair and told him, "Believe me, I know. But I think it's good for him to hunt. Gets his mind off of things and lets him take out his frustrations."

"Most people go to anger management classes, not killing things," Bobby pointed out and Alex smirked.

"Yes," she agreed. "Most people do, but we're not most people. We're bloody hunters. And he needs to mourn for a bit. I get that. But distracting him is the best way to go at it, I think. And it lets me keep an eye on him."

 _Mostly_.

Bobby wasn't exactly aware of Sam's random disappearances. Alex had tried to follow him one evening, but she'd somehow lost him in the process.

"Well," Bobby said gruffly, "If ya think it's better...how are you holding up?"

"Fine," she lied.

Lying was the best way around the topic of herself. She was the opposite of fine, of course, not just anyone could handle what she'd done after the whole mess had ended. And with her enhanced senses, it had made the whole thing worse. But someone needed to do it, to keep the cops off of their backs. So she had offered, much to the relief of both Bobby and Sam, who hadn't been able to even consider it.

It still gave her nightmares.

"Don't lie to me, girl," he scolded. Bobby gave her a small glare. "How are you holding up, Alex?"

She licked her lips, grabbing the traces of whisky from them. "...not good," she admitted finally, "But the car you gave me helps keep my mind occupied. And hunting. Hunting's always good. I've dealt with worse, when I was first turned into what I am now."

"That was different," he said gently, studying her.

"Yeah, but I'm fine now, Mr. Singer," she promised. "I'll get over it."

"Never thanked you for what you did," he mused. "Thanks, I guess. Car's yours like ya know. I'll get ya a key made so it doesn't have to hot-wire it every time you want to use it."

"Thanks, Mr. Singer."

"Bobby. Call me Mr. Singer again and I'm takin' away the car."

Alex threw her head back and laughed outright for the first time in what must have been weeks. "Alright. Bobby." She tipped what was left in her flask into her mouth and then shoved it into the pocket of her jeans as best as she could. She then straightened, watching a firework blow up in the sky. "Do you want me to make some dinner? British home-cooked meal, courtesy of Chef Alex."

"I doubt the food in England's that much different," he muttered, and Alex beamed, taking that as a yes.

"Home-made pizza it is," she announced and then trampled inside, leaving Bobby to watch after her with a look of concern on his face. He knew that she was worse off than she pretended to be.

Yet he said nothing and followed her inside, noticing that the Impala was nowhere to be found as he did so.

* * *

 **|July 17, 2008|**

There was a hiss of pain as he methodically stitched the wound back together, the deep gash oozing blood that dripped onto the floor beneath them. Alex took a swig of her beer, her icy eyes glaring angrily at him, and Sam finally demanded, "What?"

"What do you mean 'what'?" she snapped, baring her teeth at him. He didn't even flinch. "How dare you run off in the middle of a hunt - again! Where the bloody hell are you going at this time of night? You _knew_ that we were planning to go out and left anyways! I had to hunt a trio of bloody spirits by myself, you twat!"

"Calm the insults," he muttered before replying, "Something came up. I'm sorry."

" _What comes up at three in the bloody morning_?"

"I don't know, life?"

"Ugh!" Alex buried her face in her hands, ignoring his protest when she yanked the needle awkwardly, making him grimace at the way it and floss dangled from the injury on her arm. But the furious woman didn't seem to notice as she shot to her feet, burying her face in her hands.

She was trying.

She really was.

And she desperately wished that Dean could have known that, but this wasn't working. It just wasn't. She'd nearly lost an eye. He'd already stitched up the wound, but it was a bad one that even she would take a while to heal from. It ran along her temple, just touching the corner of her eye, drawing downward towards her chin. It would scar, and it was deep enough that it would ache badly every year, when the weather began to change, like bad joints or muscle injuries.

Because that's what it had done. Alex had troubles pulling her face into a grimace or a smile, only one side working properly, and Sam didn't even see to worry all that much.

She looked at him. Rather than chasing after to grab the needle and finish, he was checking his phone, like he was impatient to finish and leave again.

So, Alex made the decision.

"I'm done," she said shakily. His gaze snapped up to meet hers as she began to nervously stitch her skin back together before reaching for the scissors he'd been using. She clipped the floss that had been used and then threw the sharp scissors down, tears burning in her eyes. "I tried, I really did. I promised Dean -" She glared when Sam flinched, because what reason did he have to be upset about that? "I promised Dean that I'd keep an eye on you, but that's nearly gotten me killed. Twice. So faff off, Sam, I'm going -"

She paused.

 _Home_? Ha! She didn't have a place like that!

"Alex," Sam began, patient, as if he was speaking to a child, but she cut him off, speaking bitingly.

"Do you really think," she hissed, "That anyone would approve of whatever you're doing? You're actually worse than your brother was at this point, and that's just plain sad, Sam! So go to hell. I'm going back to Bobby's."

"You don't have a car, we drove together, remember?" he said, exasperated, and Alex went still, realizing that what he'd said was true. They were in the middle of North Dakota, nearly twelve hours away from Bobby's.

"...I'll hitch-hike. like anyone could best me in _that_ ," she bit out. "Not going to get killed, that's for sure. Safer than hanging around with you."

Without another word, the furious skinwalker grabbed her belongings and then stormed out of the motel room, slamming the door behind her. Pretty girls were well-liked when it came to hitch-hiking. She wasn't a vain person, but she did pride herself on knowing that people liked her eyes - particularly men.

She took a deep breath of the warm summer air and realized that she missed the simplicity of England. She wanted to go _home_.

But that wasn't possible. She was here in America to stay, whether she wanted to or not, because going home was a risk that she wasn't willing to take. There were too many enemies there that wanted her dead - particularly someone that she didn't want to think about.

Alex licked her lips and then checked her phone in her pocket, dialing the familiar number. When someone answered, demanding to know who was on the other end, she paused.

So long. So, so long since she'd heard his voice.

Months.

"Matt?" she mumbled.

A pause, and then he spoke. "Alex? Is that you?" When nothing was said, he took it as a confirmation, his voice demanding and angry. "Where the hell have you been? I called and called, and you never freaking picked up!"

Her lips trembled for a moment, taking in her brother's voice before she gave a bitter laugh. "Sorry, I shouldn't have called. I don't know why I did."

"No," he sighed, sounding a bit less angry. Matt's voice filled with relief. "I'm glad you're okay. Ryss said that you'd left in a temper, that you didn't want to see us again for whatever reason."'

"... _did_ she?" Alex gave a snort. Hysterical giggles left her as she paused to hold her thumb out, hopeful that the car passing would stop, but it didn't. "Funny, because ask your daughter, and she'll tell you that I was told to leave and never come back. Apparently I'm not an aunt anymore."

"She _what_?" Matt's voice filled with anger, and then he demanded, "Ignore her. I'm going to talk with her. Anyways, what's wrong? Are you alright? Your voice sounds off, and I know when you're sounding off, Lex."

She made a face at the nickname. It was too girly for her liking. "Well, Winchester number one was killed in May, and I just broke it off with Winchester number two because he nearly got me killed more than once, so I'm on my way back to Bobby Singer's, and then I'm going who the hell knows where." A pause. "Do you need a dog? I'm thinking of playing dog for a while. I just want out of hunting until I've healed. I got a bad wound on my face that'll take a while."

Matt gave a choked laugh of disbelief. "Yeah. We could use a dog, Alex. You're welcome to come by and stay as long as you want. The girls wouldn't mind."

"And if Ryss refuses, don't upset her because of me," Alex told him, biting her lip. "If she doesn't want me there, I'll go and find somewhere else. That Avery girl had liked her canine form. "I should be there eventually. I'm heading to Sioux Falls, and then I'll drive over."

"Got it," he agreed. There was silence on his end for a moment, and then a gentle, "I'm glad you're doing alright Alex."

Memories of her nightmares of recent nights made her bite back a bitter laugh. "Yeah. Not really. Hellhounds. That's all I'm going to say. Wasn't...wasn't pretty." She choked on her words, tears builing.

She'd missed Matt so much.

Her brother swore, and she waited until he spoke an apology before telling him that she'd see him soon, and that she loved him. And then she hung up, holding her thumb out again.

This time the car rolled to a stop, and the window came down to reveal a friendly woman smiling at her. "Where are you headed, dear?"

"Sioux Falls," Alex replied, flashing her a smile of relief. "Thank you, I thought I'd have to walk there."

"No problem." She waited until Alex was in the car, and then started forward. "I'm heading a few hours north of there, so I hope you don't mind my company for the next three or so hours."

Alex only smiled tightly.

"No, I don't mind."

She just wanted Matt.

* * *

Bobby seemed to be expecting her when she strolled up to the door, smiling brightly at him. He'd been waiting outside, and he raised a brow at her. "Hello, Alex. Got a call about two in the damn mornin' about how I should be expecting ya."

Alex grimaced. "Sorry, Bobby," she sighed. She ran her hand through her hair. "I'm...taking a break. Bloody moron nearly got me killed again." She waved at her cheek. She'd been shocked when her ride half of the way there had said nothing about it. It had only just begun to heal. "I'm going to visit Matt. My brother. And his kids and wife. And I'm staying with them for a while, I think, they're in Denver. Remember?"

"You're leaving Sam alone?" Alarm flashed through his gaze. "That kid's been tryin' ta make deals with the demons, Alex."

"Then you stay with him." Alex gave a biting look. "I'm tired of it. I won't get myself killed trying to help a suicidal man bring his brother back, okay? I'm sorry. But I won't. Not when he's keeping secrets from me." She jerked her head in the direction of her car. "I'm out. I'll call you later?"

"...you're not coming back," Bobby realized after a few moments of staring at her. "You plannin' on trying to be done hunting?"

"Yep." pulled the keys to the car out of her back pocket, leaning against the railing of the porch. "I want to give it up for as long as I can." She gave a dry smile. "No one can escape forever, but if Sam's going to faff off like he's been...I'm going to try. I'm tired of hunting and worrying about waking up the next morning. And Matt knows me, so I won't have to exactly hide anything."

"You can protect 'em," he admitted, "So that they ain't used against ya. What about Lilith?"

She smiled tightly. "Oh, I'm sure Sam will take care of her. Don't worry about that."

"Well," Bobby sighed, reaching out to pat her shoulder, "Have a good life then, kid. Don't hesitate to call if ya need me. Got it?"

"Thank you," she murmured, and then hugged him awkwardly over the porch railing. She then pulled away, gave him a weak smile, and turned to leave. She headed away from the older hunter, unlocking her fixed car and hopping in without hesitation. It purred as she started it up like a cat, and she stroked the wheel, and then shifted gears.

Time to head for Denver.

She wanted to cry when she gave a final wave.

It was time to move on with her life, because all this one was giving her was nasty scars that would never ever let her forget anything ever again.

Bobby watched after her with a worried look on her face, then ran a hand down his face as he headed back inside. "You kids and your impressive needs to scare the hell out of me..."

Something told him that he'd be seeing her again.

And sooner than she liked.

* * *

 **|August 12, 2008|**

Alex wanted to throttle her brother for the idea that he'd presented to his children, who had willingly and eagerly accepted it without a moment's hesitation. But there wasn't any true anger as a cheerful Hally - now eight - tangled the flowers into her long red and white fur.

"Look, Daddy," Tessa laughed as she pressed a huge kiss to the side of Alex's patient face. "She likes it!"

Alex wagged her tail to keep up their cheerful moods, and then promptly flopped onto her side, using her paw to cover her nose in an almost shy appearance. Immediately, Hally stopped to scratch her ribs happily.

Nearly a month after leaving the life of hunting behind to join her brother in a peaceful lifestyle, and she was incredibly content. There was no looking over her shoulder every second of the day, no worrying about whether or not she had to deal with an injury. The cheek wound had healed badly, of course, and she had issues eating the food that Matt would slip her when he could, but it wasn't bad enough to require therapy of sorts.

Ryss had refused to stay in the same house, leaving without a backwards glance. Alex had felt guilty, but Matt, angry with his wife, had insisted that it wasn't her fault. Ryss was currently staying with her parents, who were hateful towards the pair of siblings.

She'd even threatened divorce should he not comply to her wishes.

Matt had dared her to, furious with the way that she'd been acting. They'd fought loudly, and it had been up to Alex to comfort the children, playing with them in the backyard as her ears caught every last word.

While she was mournful and even angry about it, Alex understood where Ryss was coming from. She was concerned about her children.

Not that Alex would let anything happen to them.

Her blade was still attached, never leaving her side, and she'd actually used it once to dispatch a demon that had gotten too close for her liking. But other than that, the family had been left alone.

Tessa suddenly lost her balance and tumbled over, landing sharply on Alex, but she barely flinched, merely letting a gust of air out in a surprised whoosh. She woofed playfully when Tessa burst into giggles and simply hugged her before hopping to her feet and toddling over to where Matt was sitting in the grass. Matt held his arms out caught her, his blue eyes - a good few shades darker than Alex's - amused.

"Daddy," Tessa giggled, and Hally grinned at the massive canine that she was petting as Alex rolled upright. She sprang to her paws and shook her fur out, then slid into a play bow. Her tail wagged back and forth for a few moments as she stared Hally in the eye, a silent challenge there.

And then she booked it across the yard, Hally chasing after her with giggles escaping her. Alex let loose a loud bark when Hally got close, suddenly changing direction. Hally nearly tripped, but kept her balance and ran after her as fast as her legs could carry her.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

Matt couldn't hear it, but she could, and she began to bark, glaring at the back door warily. Her tail stopped wagging, the loud sounds echoing through the air as she flicked one ear back, keeping the other pricked forward.

A signal that the pair of them had created before she'd joined the family as a dog entirely.

"Come on, girls, someone's at the door," he recognized, ushering them all inside. Alex slid past him and simply turned into a statue, sitting just beside the door as she usually did, her lips pulled back warily.

She did this every time someone came to the door. It was safer; she fully intended to protect her family if something came after them.

Matt checked who was outside first - and then blinked, startled. Looking bewildered, he opened the door and asked, "Yes?"

A voice Alex definitely wasn't expecting filled her ears.

"Uh, hi. Is Alex here?"

Alex dropped her lips. In fact, her mouth fell open, and then snapped shut with a click of her teeth. A growl spilled past her as she pushed past Matt, giving him a look. He gave a nod and then slipped away. Sam, who'd started to gape at her in surprise, paused when he came back, some clothes in hand. "Here, I'll put a movie on for the girls so they don't see you."

Alex took the clothes lightly in her jaws and grunted before leaping from the porch with a wave of her tail. He wasn't far behind, following her around to the side of the house, where she shifted into a human appearance, bones aching from the first transformation in a while.

"What do you want?" she said flatly as she pulled her clothes on, wiggling into a pair of jeans and frowning. She'd gained a few pounds, it appeared. Not something that she'd expected. Then again, she hadn't been running around chasing monsters like before...

"Nothing," he huffed, and then crossed his arms. He was older looking than he'd been the last time she'd seen him, Alex noted. He glanced to the scar on her cheek, which kept the side of her face in a permanent downward position when she gave a dry smile. "I stopped by to check on you. Bobby said-"

"Bobby's giving away my location?" she said grouchily, rolling her shoulders after yanking a T-shirt on. She leaned back int he shade of the house, her eyes hooded with exhaustion. "Why do you need to check on me? You were the on disappearing into the bloody night to faff off with who the bloody hell knows what."

"And I'm sorry," he stressed, though something told the woman that he really wasn't. She scoffed and turned her face away. "Look, I'm going to visit...do you want to come?"

"Thanks, but no thanks," she replied. Her eyes darted up to meet his. "I'm happy here. I'm staying with Matt, even if Ryss is filing for a divorce as we speak. At least I'll get to keep my nieces around. There's no way she could get custody without the money he offers." She smirked to herself, as if unconcerned, though the guilt that she felt threatened to rip her heart into pieces.

"You don't even want to visit it?" Sam looked hurt, but Alex couldn't bring herself to apologize. She only smiled weakly at him.

"Sammy," she said, using the nickname that Dean had created and used. He flinched. "I'm so tired of it all. There's a good bloody reason I came out here. I wanted to get away from everything. Going to visit his grave would only invite more bad luck, okay? And...I don't...I don't want to remember that anymore." Her voice trembled, remembering the blood and more.

"Okay, okay," he agreed. But he looked a little upset about the matter.

Alex didn't feel any sympathy for him. He'd lost all respect she had for him, even if she did understand why he'd done everything that he had. He missed Dean. But that didn't mean that she was okay with being abandoned and left to deal with dangerous creatures on her own.

She seriously wandered how she'd gotten along before the Winchesters and sometimes even missed the freedom. She longed for the days when she hadn't needed anyone. It had been so much easier and far more peaceful when she didn't have to deal with other people.

"Where'd you come from?" she sighed. "I hope you didn't come all the way here from somewhere closer to Pontiac. Then I'd actually feel bad for not going with you."

Sam gave a faint smile. "Nah, came from Oregon. Wendigo."

"Ah." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting one face to face. Fire's good for them though, eh?" She snorted at herself, and then made a small wave with her hand. "Now, if you don't mind, I have some cute little nieces to get back to. You interrupted our daily play time where I dutifully chase one around the yard whilst the other one surprises me from the other direction."

Sam only chuckled. "I see. Then I'll let you get back to that. I'm sorry for disrupting your daily life. Must be nice to have managed to grasp a normal one."

"I guess." Alex bit her lip, crossing her arms tightly. "Tell him I said hi?"

"Sure." Sam hesitated, and then awkwardly patted her on the head, as if his size gave him the right to do so. "See you around, Alex."

Alex's eyes flashed as she smiled tightly. "We'll see," was all she said.

* * *

 **|August 5, 2008|**

Her nails clicked quietly on pavement as she made her way through town, sharp blue eyes watching the area around her with care. Her thick tail whisked behind her, and her ears pricked forward at a sound: screaming.

Her first instinct was to dive forward and make sure they were okay, but she did nothing. Why bother? Everyone just died eventually. At least they got to go without feeling the pain of life, right?

Alex flicked an ear at another scream, and then huffed at the silence. She could smell the sulfur from where he stood in the street; demons were clearly involved, and she wasn't exactly looking to put herself in the open.

She pushed onwards, her tongue lolling just barely.

She'd left her brother long before. The day after Sam had visited, in fact. She'd felt horrible about intruding and had told him to call Ryss back before slipping out, leaving only with her blade so that she had a form of protection. They could do whatever they wished, and Alex would never bother them again.

A life as a stray canine wasn't too bad. She'd done it before, when she'd accidentally killed someone who didn't need to die. For a month, she'd run around, living off of whatever she found in the streets.

Then, though, she'd been younger and therefore smaller. She didn't have the scars that her body now held from being a hunter. Her fur had been softer, her eyes kinder.

She even intimidated herself when she looked in the mirror sometimes.

It meant that she wouldn't get as many scraps or people willing to feed her. But she'd put up with it. Hunting wasn't too hard either, and eating raw meat sucked, but she could put up with it if she had to.

She licked her lips, looking back when light washed over her. Headlights filled her vision, but she wasn't too concerned, being on the sidewalk and all. She _was_ surprised, however, when the car began to slow beside her. She flattened her ears, sweeping her tail between her hind legs as if she was frightened when really, she was ready to tear their throat out.

"You're a big one," said the teen who hopped out, looking over the hood of his car with a curious look. Alex whined, shifting away, blue eyes calculating. He gave a small smile as he came around the car and knelt beside it, patiently holding out a hand like she might come and sniff it.

Alex let a growl rumble from her chest. _Screw off!_

He made a face. "Come on, ain't gonna hurt ya..." He edged closer and Alex stood her ground, hackles bristling. When his fingers skimmed her fur, she refused to move, growling louder for a few moments before deciding that he meant no harm. Only then did she reluctantly wag her tail, flicking her ears forward. Her blue eyes were watching him with care, however, when he grinned and moved closer.

"Here we go." He stroked her shoulder with a laugh. "See?" His fingers searched through her fur for what she assumed was a collar, but he found nothing, and frowned. "No family, eh? No worries, we'll get you one. Heard the pound here's no-kill, so they shouldn't mind taking you in. Doubt you'll get adopted though...not with this size..."

Alex patiently let him mutter to himself for a short while before she finally decided it was time to make a break for it. She took a step away, and then growled when his fingers tangled roughly in her fur, trapping her there. She tried to move away again, but he was having none of it and forced her to remain where she was again, digging in his pocket for his phone.

As he called local animal control, Alex decided that she hated America's insane need to "rescue" every animal off of the streets rather than leaving them be. Grumbling, she reluctantly dropped to the ground, resting her snout on her paws.

 _Bloody ridiculous_ , she snarled a short time later when the animal control people showed up and slipped the ridiculously tight loop around her neck. She didn't bother to waste energy trying to yank away. It would throttle her in the process. She considered just taking on a human form for a second to scare them all off, but thought better of it and just flicked her tail impatiently. Tongue lolling, the skinwalker grumbled.

"She's a big one." One of the men from animal control commented as if she wasn't there, and not for the first time, Alex realized that she really needed a partner for situations like these. She couldn't just...walk out of a pound. She seriously needed a life alert for these kind of things.

So, she let them struggle to hist her butt into the vehicle they used, and she certainly didn't help. She simply sat there, smugly watching them scratch their heads and try to figure out how to lift a dog that weighed somewhat close to a solid one hundred fifty pounds.

It was while they were doing that that another voice and person joined in with the mess around them. Alex glanced over her shoulder in shock when a feminine voice called, "Wait!"

... _what the bloody hell...?_

She recognized the person in an instant as the woman who'd freed her from "prison" months before: Avery. She was puffing for air from running, her hair piled on her head in a ponytail. She doubled over to catch her breath, and then rasped, "Where'd you find her?"

"Just walkin' down the street," the teen told her. "Is she yours?"

"...yes." Avery straightened, crossing her arms. "Sorry, she gets out of the yard sometimes. I mean, you can see how. Just look at her."

"Oh. Well, here you go then." The men took a leash out of the back of the truck, looping it around Alex's neck. They handed the other end to Avery, who flashed them a faint smile as they took the other device off. Once that had been done, Alex shook her fur out and then wagged her tail in greeting, nosing at Avery's hand playfully in greeting.

Damn, being a dog was irritating.

"Thanks," Avery said, and then tugged on the leash. "C'mon, Red, let's get you home..." Once they were far enough away, Avery began to mutter under her breath. "Where the hell did you come from? Glad you're not with that other dude anymore..." Her fingers felt along her head, frowning when they touched the scar. "What did he _do_ to you?"

Alex flinched. Sam. She felt bad about not going with him. But this was better; no having to hunt, no having to keep an eye on everything.

Peaceful.

"Well I won't let you go back," Avery announced. "My house is your house. Moved here not too long after and my art's doing a lot better here. So that's a plus. I have a cat, too, she's fond of dogs, so that's another good thing... I hope I don't seriously need a permit to keep you. People will get nervous because of your size..."

Avery continued to ramble on and Alex calmly paced beside her, pretending to not care that her fingers were tangled in her fur. But Alex's mind raced wildly, shock in her body. This was the second time that she'd come into contact with this person - and nearly half-way across the country, too!

Something strange was going on, Alex decided as she sneezed, making Avery giggle.

She'd watch her.

Even when people came knocking at the door in the next month, shocking the hell out of her with who was on the other side of it.

* * *

 _Another quick chapter...:D_


	14. Lazarus Rising

**| September 18, 2008 |**

If there was one thing that Bobby hadn't been expecting, it was for Winchester to show up at his front door after being ripped apart by hellhounds going on four months before. Dean grinned hesitantly, saying brightly, "Surprise."

Bobby didn't know how to respond for a moment, staring. "I...don't..."

"Yeah, me neither," Dean replied, ducking inside. "Whose car out there, by the way? Like it. It's badass - Bobby!" He suddenly shouted when Bobby lunged for him, silver knife flashing. Dean struggled to grab the limb to stop the attack, only to get a fist to the face for the attempt. "Bobby, it's me!"

"My ass," Bobby bellowed, kicking aside a chair that Dean shoved between them to try and slow his attack.

Dean threw his hands out, saying hastily, "Robert Steven Singer. Became a hunter after your wife got possessed, and... Uh, you're about the closest thing I have to a father." Bobby's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "It's me."

Bobby didn't look like he believed him, but lowered his blade. He took a step or two closer, rested his hand lightly on Dean's shoulder, studying him with wonder almost-

And then suddenly lashed out again. Dean yelped and managed to get the knife out of his hand in record timing, wheezing when an elbow was driven into his gut. "I'm not a shapeshifter!" he snapped, snatching away the knife before he could get it again. He held it up carefully, Bobby giving him a death glare.

"If I was, could I do this?" Yanking up the sleeve of the shirt that he'd found, Deandrew the blade along the inside of his elbow, blood rising and then trickling down his arm and onto the floor below.

"...Dean?" Bobby breathed, absolutely astonished by what he was seeing before him.

"That's," Dean replied, "What I've been trying to tell you."

Bobby studied him for a moment longer and then seemed to break down. He yanked the eldest Winchester in for a huge hug, patting him on the shoulder after pulling away. "It's good to see you, boy...but how did you bust out?"

"I don't know," Dean admitted. "I just...uh...woke up in this pine box-" He sputtered, face suddenly soaked with liquid, and then spat with a rather annoyed look on his face. "Thanks, Bobby. But I'm not exactly a demon either, you know."

"Can't be too careful. Sorry." Seeming to truly relax now, Bobby waved him in and they entered the main part of the house. Dean found a random rag that had been used for who knows what and used it to wipe off his face, making a face when Bobby spoke again.

"It don't make a lick of sense...your chest was ribbons. Insides were slop. Four months buried...even if you could have slipped out of hell and come back into your meat suit-"

"I know, I know. I should look like some kind of Thriller video reject." Dean tossed the rag over his shoulder, and then became serious. "Sam's number isn't working...he's okay, right?"

Bobby gave an almost sneer. "Oh, he's alright as far as I know."

Dean glared. "What do you mean as far as you know?"

"Haven't talked to him since he asked where Alex ran off to." Bobby crossed his arms, looking annoyed. "She came past here back in the end of July. Claimed that Sam wasn't doing what he should have been doing as a hunter and quit the huntin' life. Then I get a call a few weeks later asking if I've seen her. Turns out she'd gone back to live with her brother and then disappeared into thin air. He sent her car over. Was hers out front you saw."

"Puppy couldn't handle it anymore, eh?" Dean snorted, as if amused, but blinked when Bobby glared.

"Leave Alex be, Dean, she did far more than we were even capable of thinking of doing," he snapped with a rather sharp tone that surprised him. "She deserves retirement if she can. But as she disappeared, I've been searching for her. I can't find her. If she was caught up by demons-"

"Okay, okay," Dean snapped, "I get it. Need to find her. What about Sam?"

"Hunting Lilith," was all Bobby said about the matter. "Alex stayed for him for a while, but things got bad."

"You should have been looking after him," Dean said quietly.

"I tried," he replied tiredly, "But these last months haven't exactly been easy, you know? For any of us. We buried you. I wanted ou salted and burned, usual drill. Sam wouldn't have any of it, so Alex and I dug the grave and built the casket."

"Well I'm glad he won that," Dean admitted, folding his arms.

"He said you need a body when he got you back home somehow," Bobby said. Dean glanced suspiciously at him, and he raised his hands in surrender. "He was quiet, and then just took off after Alex left. Wouldn't return my calls and I tried to find him, but he didn't want to be found."

"Dammit, Sammy," Dean groaned as he scrubbed a hand down his face. "He got me home okay. But whatever he did, s'got bad mojo." Bobby glanced questioningly at him and he gave a wry grin. "You should have seen the grave site, Bobby. Looked like a nuke went off. Then there was this...force. This presence. I don't know, but it blew past me at a fill-up joint. And then there's _this_."

Dean yanked the jacket from his form, and then showed Bobby a nasty looking hand print that resided on his flesh. Bobby looked horrified. "It was like a demon just yanked me out," Dean grumbled, "Or rode me out. To hold up their end of the goddamn bargain."

"Alex said that Sam tried to make a deal," Bobby admitted, "But she said they wouldn't do it, Dean."

"Doesn't matter. He must have gotten it somehow."

"Well, if you wanna find him, go right on ahead. I had a lead on Alex." Bobby headed over to where his desk was, littered with various items - including several bottles. Dean trailed after him, muttering that it'd be easier to find his brother with her nose. As he sorted through papers, Dean watched him and then asked, "What's with the liquor store?"

"Like I said," he muttered back quietly. "Last few months ain't been all that easy...here we go." He lifted a newspaper, moving over to Dean with a tight smile, and showed him the front page.

"Mind you, there are a lot of dogs in the country lookin' like that..." he muttered as Dean took the paper and studied it.

 _ **RESIDENT OF CHEYENNE, WYOMING WINS NATIONAL ART CONTEST FOR FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS**_ , it read. Above the title was a picture of a pretty dark haired woman dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, her brown eyes sparkling. Her arms were wrapped around a massive dog, its icy blue eyes staring at the camera with a deadly look in them.

"Definitely her," Dean announced, examining the intelligence of the look the dog held. "The size right off tells you that it's her."

"S'what I thought," Bobby said smugly. "So let's go get Alex, and then we'll see what we can do about that idiot of a brother you have..."

* * *

The sound of a crash filled the building, and a pair of sharp blue eyes sprang open. She tensed, ready to fly off of the couch - and then relaxed when she heard cursing. Avery had merely dropped something again. An interesting habit of hers.

Alex let a tongue-curling yawn loose and then climbed to her feet, shaking her thick fur out before trotting over to where Avery was gathering up the canvas and brushes she'd dropped. Avery glanced up when she heard the clicking of nails on the floor, and then smiled brightly when she saw her. "Alex," she said warmly. "Checking up on me?"

Alex swished her tail once, watching cautiously as Avery finished scooping up the brushes and then sat back, clicking her tongue. Alex edged closer, and then wheezed in surprise when Avery slammed a gentle fist into her shoulder.

"No demons attacking, I promise."

Alex rolled her eyes and purposely snorted on her before turning to head back onto the couch. Avery stuck her tongue out after her, but Alex ignored the playful action and woofed in response.

The reveal had been inevitable. It happened when a demon had broken into the house in the middle of the night, determined to kill Avery for a reason that Alex still didn't understand or know about. Alex had been forced to choose - a demon didn't die from a skinwalker bite, after all - and had shifted before Avery without hesitation, plunging her blade into its chest with glaring blue eyes.

Avery had been beyond shocked, terrified of her even, but after seeing the wary look on Alex's face, had picked up a stony look and told her to sit down, shut up, and wait. Alex had done as instructed, and had been shocked when a shaking Avery came back with clothes, ordering her to get dressed and then explain.

So, Alex had.

Avery had accepted everything with surprising ease, though she'd been shaken about it for days after. Alex had been concerned that she'd be forced to watch over the young woman from a distance, but was relieved that she'd said that Alex could live there still, had even set up a room for her for the days that she felt up to a human form.

It didn't happen often, if at all. Usually, Alex kept up her canine self and curled up at the foot of Avery's bed in the dead of night to guard her.

Neither had brought up their previous meeting, and their relationship worked fairly well. Avery enjoyed having Alex around, canine or not. They chatted in a friendly way on occasion, and had grown to be fairly good friends.

Avery had only asked once about how she'd become a hunter, but Alex hadn't responded, and she hadn't asked ever again. Because that meant discussing the reason she wasn't with Matt, and Alex just didn't want to deal with that painful reminder.

Alex watched Avery haul her canvas and brushes into the room, setting them up with a speed that Alex envied. She had problems with that; she'd tried to pain with Avery once, and it hadn't gone well. Paint had ended up all over the place, and Alex still thought she might have a blue stain on her arm.

Avery left to go get paint, and then dropped to the ground to paint when she returned. She used the brush confidently, with brisk strokes, and Alex watched her silently from where she rested on the couch, her sharp blue eyes never missing anything. Avery focused on her painting with ease, humming under her breath. It was a distant song, one that she sung to herself often, yet not one that she'd ever actually heard.

Alex had just begun to doze off when there was a knock on the door. Avery paused in painting, and glanced up. Alex met her gaze evenly, and then gave a loud booming bark, intending to scare off anyone who might be there to hurt her friend. She heard muttering on the other side of the door as she took a running dive, slamming into it with all of her body weight so that it shook on its hinges, even cracking the wood.

"Red!" Avery snapped, using the "alias" she'd created for the skinwalker. "You'll break the door down again!"

Alex paused, shrugged her shoulders, and then slammed into the door a second time.

She heard laughter on the other side of the door, confusing the skinwalker beyond belief. Suspicious, she raised her hackles and growled viciously as Avery unlocked the door and opened it.

The sight on the other side brought Alex to a complete and abrupt halt. She stared with wide eyes at the pair on the other side of the door, eyes wide. Her jaws parted slowly, and Avery, who'd demanded rather grumpily to know who they were, glanced down at her when she began to growl.

"Hey, puppy," said Dean Winchester, as if he hadn't been dead for four months, a huge grin on his face. "Long time, no-"

Alex lunged, teeth clicking as she snapped at his face. Avery gave a rather surprised scream, scampering out of the way as she sent him tumbling back over the railing of the porch. Alex wheezed when she hit the ground beside him, the breath driven out of her, but was quickly on her feet.

"Alex!" Avery shrieked, throwing herself at the banister of the porch. Alex recognized Bobby beside her, but paid neither attention. She was too busy snarling viciously, clicking her jaws.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean said hastily, throwing his hands up to hold her back when she lunged again. She snapped at his face angrily, trying to catch him with her teeth, and he made a face of disgust when spittle spattered his cheek. "Ugh, yuck. Bobby!"

"I ain't gettin' involved," the elder hunter grumbled, looking nearly amused by the struggle going on beneath them. When Avery moved to swing herself over the banister in a panic, he grabbed her arm gently and reassured, "Don't worry, the boy can handle himself."

"Alex-"

"Skinwalker. If ya know her name, then ya know that." Bobby flashed her a kind look as she stared at him. "Hunters. Alex worked with us for a bit. She's just freakin' out 'cause Dean somehow came back from the dead, that's all."

Avery opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it, beyond confused by what was going on.

There was a few moments of struggling before Alex gave up on her canine form and suddenly shifted into her humanoid appearance, blade rippling into existence as she did so. She lashed out and he caught her wrist, swearing. "Damn it, Alex, drop the attack already!"

"You are _dead_ ," she hissed back, not looking the least bit bothered when blood spattered her cheek, the black blade ripping a nasty wound down his arm.

"Alex!" Bobby suddenly barked, and she was distracted long enough that Dean was able to kick her away from him, taking the blade in his own hand as he did so. She gave a frustrated cry, glaring viciously with her sharp blue eyes.

"You," she seethed, pointing shakily at the eldest Winchester. "Are dead. I watched you get ripped to shreds, Dean bloody Winchester - literally bloody."

"Yeah," he said sarcastically, "Excuse me while I go and make sure that happened. Yep, it did. I remember it perfectly. Yeah, I _was_ dead. And now I'm not. Got a problem with it, sweetheart?"

"Shapeshifter," Alex mumbled, eyeing her blade. "Perhaps a spirit of some sorts, or a demon who thought it'd be funny-"

"It's actually him, Alex," Bobby called. She glanced sharply to him, unbelieving. "I tested holy water, silver knife, all of it. He ain't lyin'."

Breathing heavily, the naked Alex covered her chest with care and curled up. Avery turned and darted into the house, cheeks red, to fetch some clothes for her friend. "Impossible. You don't just walk out of Hell." Her voice trembled, her accent sharp in her fear.

"Yeah, well, I didn't," Dean huffed back, tossing her weapon back. She snatched it out of the air. "What the hell happened to your face?"

Alex's eyes darkened hatefully. "Faff off," she bit out, turning her scarred side away.

"No, seriously," he demanded. "What happened?"

Alex gave a bitter laugh, sounding near hysterical as Avery returned with clothes. She tossed them to Alex, who caught them and began to yank them on. Her blue eyes blazing, she finally snarled, "Your brother was a bloody idiot and disappeared on me in the midst of a hunt. I had to fend off more than one creature, and I dropped my knife. It did that to me. I may use it, but I'm not invulnerable against it."

Avery looked startled, and Bobby, who'd been listening and watching everything going on, glanced at her. "She didn't tell ya?"

Avery shook her head, long black hair swirling around her. "No...I had no idea," she mumbled.

"Huh." Dean blinked a few times, and then climbed to his feet, brushing himself off. He grumbled about something under his breath that Alex caught with her sharp hearing, and bit something out at him in response in what he'd call "British speech" to the point that no one could even begin to comprehend it.

"So where's Sam?" Alex demanded, glancing over at Avery to check on her. "Why didn't you go pick his stupid ass up first?"

"Because you have a nose?" Dean said cheekily, earning a bristling glare.

"Dean," Bobby warned, "Remember what I said about leaving her be. She's done more than the rest of us have. Ya hear me?" To Alex, he explained, "But basically what he said."

"...you came to me because of my _nose_?" Alex growled under her breath, looking aggravated as she turned on Bobby and snapped, "I told you, Bobby. I was done. I wanted no more hunting. I quit."

"Sorry, sweetheart," Dean said mockingly, "You don't just up and quit."

"I was doing just fine until now." She ran a hand down her face. "Leave. I'm not going with you."

"Alex," Bobby began, but she cut him off.

"No. No, Bobby, I'm done. I just stopped having nightmares that I've had nonstop for the past four months, do you hear me? I'm done. Just...go away." Alex pressed her hand over her eyes, and then shook her head, blonde-red hair tumbling around her cheeks and hiding the scar there. "Please. I don't want to hunt anymore."

"Alright, alright," he sighed. "We'll leave ya in peace." Bobby muttered something to Avery, and then slid past her, heading over. Dean was frowning down at the irritated skinwalker, who hadn't moved from her spot. "If ya want to get back in, just let us know. And don't be a stranger, Alex."

She didn't respond for a moment, and finally lifted her head. Her eyes were surprisingly dark, full of pain. "Yeah," she said hoarsely. "We'll see."

Bobby frowned, looking at her with concern in his eyes. He didn't remember the young skinwalker leaving with this much grief in her. She'd been upset, certainly, but what had changed since she'd left?

It was clear that Dean had noticed, too, because when he spoke to her, his voice held no irritation or even sarcasm for the first time in a while. "What happened? And not the Sam thing. I get it, Sammy's been making his way onto Santa's naughty list."

"When a demon came last time," Avery said, catching their attention. Alex glowered over her shoulder at her. "It told her that if it ever found her again, it'd do what had been done to someone by the name of Dean Winchester and make me pick up the pieces like she did. I guess that's you, so..." She flushed at the looks she received from all of them - including Alex, who sent her the death glare. "Sorry."

"Pick up the pieces?" Dean muttered, bewildered.

"Drop it, Winchester," Alex said icily, furious now. "You wanna go find Sam? Go find Sam. I don't give a bloody damn what you do. Just leave me out of it."

"He'll find out eventually, Alex, ya might as well tell him," Bobby sighed, and then told Dean in a rather blunt tone, "Someone had to make sure the police didn't go looking for an extra body. And when Sam wanted to bury you, that meant getting the, err, rest of your body out of there before someone figured it out. You weren't exactly in one piece. Since Sam and I didn't exactly want to do that-"

"Wait, you did clean up duty?" Dean stared down at Alex, who merely glared back up at him.

"You were torn into pieces," she spat after a moment. "So yeah, I cleaned up the pieces. I mopped your blood from that floor, I picked up these little tiny chunks of Dean and threw them into a river so they wouldn't be found. I took the little amulet that Sam has now, and I took it from around your cold dead neck, Winchester, so yes. I did clean up duty. Because someone had to do it and no one else could."

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't think of anything to say. It had upset the skinwalker, cleaning up the mess left behind, and to the point that she now trembled. Unable to come up with anything else, he simply said, "Thanks. I guess."

Avery studied the situation, chin on her closed fist as she leaned against the banister, and then pointed at them. "I say you go with them, Alex. It'd be good for you. You've been moping around my house for way too long. I'll be alright. You showed me how to defend myself for the most part, remember? I'll just keep my phone on me and if a demon shows up, throw salt everywhere he tries to step."

"...you're smart, I like you," Dean told her, and then yanked back when Alex tried to land a well-aimed attack to the groin. Growling under her breath, she reluctantly drawled, "I'm assuming that you've already found him?"

"Pontiac, Illinois," Bobby reported.

Alex's eyes narrowed, and Dean gave a quick nod. "Yep. Suspicious, ain't it?"

"Isn't it," Avery called, and then smirked, waving for them to continue their conversation. "Use proper wording, Mr. Winchester."

He looked delighted by the attitude, but Alex was on her feet by that point and was pushing him towards where Bobby's car waited. "You went in the completely opposite direction to come get me. How nice of you. And you even knew I didn't want to bloody go!"

"Shut up," Dean told her.

She kicked him nastily in the shin and claimed the backseat so that she could watch him for any funny business. She paused, glancing back at Avery, who watched them in silence. Avery smiled brightly and gave a little wave, calling, "Like that guy put it, Alex! Don't be a stranger!"

Alex smiled faintly at her and slid into the car.

* * *

Alex gave an uncomfortable wriggle, her thick fur making the vest on her body slide around in a way that made her want to rip it off, and Dean hissed, "Alex, stop it."

She turned an icy glare on him before going back to sniffing around like a common dog - something that annoyed the hell out of her.

"Leave her be boy, she's workin'," Bobby grumbled.

"Not fast enough," Dean muttered, earning a growl from the skinwalker. Finally, she stopped and glanced around before tipping her chin awkwardly so that she could rip the vest off herself. The second she was free, she was in her humanoid form, hand held out.

"Clothes," she said simply, and Bobby pushed them into her hand, looking away so that she could change. She scowled at Dean, who simply watched her wriggle into her jeans. "Avert your bloody eyes, Winchester."

"No chance in hell am I doing that," he drawled back, grinning at the sight before him. When she was done, Alex kicked him and then kicked at the door, too, knocking it roughly.

Almost instantly, the door was thrown open, and a girl stood there. Her hand was on her hips, her body clad in only a tank top and underwear that made Alex arch an eyebrow. Dean looked at her in shock, not expecting such a sight. "Where is it?"

"...uh...what?" he muttered.

"The pizza?" She made a face, as if irritated with his "stupidity". "The one that takes two guys and some chic to deliver?"

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off when someone else ducked into view, looking curious. Alex recognized Sam instantly and glared at him, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "Hey, where's..." he trailed off when Dean shoved past the girl and into the room, grinning broadly.

"Hey, Sammy."

Sam staggered closer, stunned - and then lashed out with a knife that he pulled out of seemingly nowhere. Alex yelped as the young woman yanked back and slammed into her, a scent that stunned her filling her nostrils for the briefest of instants before she was yanking away and crashing into Bobby. Bobby sprang forward with surprising speed to yank Sam off of Dean, and Alex snickered.

At least Sam was giving the same warm reception.

"Who are you?!" Sam bellowed, struggling to get past Bobby.

"Like you didn't do this!" Dean snapped back.

"It's him," Bobby input quickly, "It's him. I've been through this already, and so had Alex, Sam. It's really him." The struggle left Sam as he stared at his brother, his lips parting in shock, and Dean cautiously approached, holding his hands up to show that he held no weapon.

"I know," he said faintly. "I look fantastic, right?"

Bobby glanced between the brothers until Alex stepped forward and gave a curt nod. He released Sam, and stepped out of the way. Sam shuffled over to Dean and yanked him into a tight hug, eyes glittering with tears.

"So...are you two together or something?" the woman asked, raising an eyebrow and not looking at all surprised, as if she'd almost expected something like this to happen. Sam flushed and released his brother, hurrying to deal with that matter as Alex sidled over to the eldest Winchester.

"I really don't think he made a deal," she muttered quietly, "He couldn't have possibly convinced a demon to accept his offers within a month."

"Doesn't matter, sometimes it depends on the demon," he replied with surprising seriousness. As Sam kicked the door shut, he turned a calculating look on his brother and demanded, "So. Sammy. Tell me, what it'd cost?" Sam blinked, confused, and he clarified, "To bring me back. Was it just your soul...? Maybe worse?"

"You think I made a deal?" Sam stared at him, stunned, and Bobby confirmed with a sharply said, "That's exactly what we think, Sam."

"I'm with you," Alex piped up, ignoring the glare Dean sent at her. "I don't think you did. I told him about your previous failed attempts."

"Thanks, Alex," Sam said sarcastically. "I didn't. I'm not lying, Dean, I didn't make a deal."

Dean lost his temper and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, getting in his face in his anger. "So, what? I'm off the hook and you're on? Is that it?"

"Dean," Alex protested, stepping forward, but he pushed her back, ignoring her snarl and continued with a furious look. "You're some demon's bitch? I didn't want to be saved like this, Sammy."

"I _didn't_ ," Sam seethed. "I tried everything! Don't think I didn't! I tried opening the Devil's Gate, even. Alex told you; no one would take my bargain. You were rotting in Hell for months. _Months_. And I couldn't stop it. So I'm sorry it wasn't me, alright? I'm sorry."

Dean searched his eyes for a moment more, and then relented, letting go of him. "...okay. You don't have to apologize, I believe you."

Alex cleared her throat after shifting to stand beside Bobby, and Bobby glanced at her when she spoke with a look of concern on her face. "Okay, that's brilliant. Really, truly breath taking. But if Sam didn't pull you out...then what the bloody hell did?"

* * *

"So what were you doing around here if you weren't digging me out?" Dean asked, accepting the beer that was offered to him. Before he could pop the lid off, however, Alex snatched it from his grip and grouchily began to chug it without a lick of hesitation in her eyes. She stared him down as she did so.

"Well, once I figured out I couldn't save you," Sam began, "I started hunting down Lilith-"

"Which I said was bloody ridiculous," Alex muttered, wiping her mouth and reaching for another beer. They all stared at her and she shrugged. "I did. I said it was stupid, but Sammy wouldn't listen to me."

"-and I kept looking after Alex left," Sam added, ignoring her. "Anyways, I was checking some demons that came out of Tennessee, and just...out of nowhere, they took a hard left and booked it up here."

"When?" Dean demanded, eyeing a pink bra that hung from the handle of a closet door with a raised brow.

"Yesterday morning," Sam reported.

"When I busted out," Dean explained to Bobby, who immediately frowned, sitting back in his seat with a bottle of beer tightly held in his fingers. "You think they're hangin' around 'cause of you?"

"I don't know," Dean admitted as he took a swig of his own drink. "Some badass demon drags me out and now this? Gotta be connected somehow."

Alex grouchily called him something under her breath, sarcastically complimenting him on his ability to state the obvious, and Bobby chuckled at her attitude before asking, "How you feelin' anyway?" When Dean gave him a look, he explained, "I mean, do you feel like yourself? Anything strange? Different?"

"Or demonic?" he bit out. "how many times do I have to prove I'm me, Bobby?"

"You're you," Alex piped up, wrinkling her nose. "No other person reeks as bad as you."

"How kind of you, Alex," Dean retorted with a sarcastic tone. "I feel fine."

"Yeah, Mr. I-Feel-Fine. Listen. no demon's cutting their ties with ya out of the goodness of their hearts. They've got to have somethin' nasty planned." Bobby's gaze became thoughtful as he studied them. "I know a psychic. A few hours from here. Somethin' this big, she might have heard somethin' from the other side." He pushed himself to his feet, telling them, "I'll meet you knuckleheads in the car. And don't skip out on me."

Dean looked pleased by the idea as he ducked out of the room, but Alex made a sound of disapproval, jerking her chin. "I found Sam for you guys, just like you wanted. Can I go home now?"

"C'mon, aren't ya even a little curious on what rode me out of Hell?" Dean questioned, flashing his teeth in a mocking smirk.

"Not really, no." Alex spoke bluntly, blue eyes sharp. "I don't trust whatever it was, okay? And I'm trying to not be so involved anymore. I just..." She took a shuddering breath. "I want to go back to Avery."

Sam's eyes flashed with surprise. "The one from back when-"

"Yeah, her. The one who doesn't leave in the middle of the night when I'm in the middle of a hunt - mostly because there _is no hunt_. I told you, I'm done, and i don't want any more part in this search you're doing." She shoved a hand through her red-blonde hair. "Please."

Dean only shook his head in answer. "When we've figured this out, you can go back." She glared at him viciously, and he held his hands up in surrender. "Seriously. We're gonna need the man power if it comes down to it. Even I'm not that stupid. It's like how Lilith requires more than one person to kill her," he added, shooting his brother a look.

Sam only smiled sheepishly and said, "Sorry."

Alex searched Dean's serious gaze for a few moments before clearing her throat. "Fine," she agreed. "But as soon as we figure out what it is, I'm out. Do you wankers understand?"

"Clearly," Dean said cheerfully. "Now let's go get us a psychic!"

* * *

Bobby knocked on the door before them with a look of amusement on his face. None of the other three had been willing to knock first, leaving him to do it, and Sam looked happy that he had when a woman with a pretty smile opened the door and cried, "bobby!" before throwing her arms around him in a hug that lifted him into the air.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," Bobby chuckled, smiling warmly at her, and then stepped aside, gesturing to the three behind him. "These here are Sam, Dean, and Alex. This is Pamela Barnes, best damn psychic there is."

Alex didn't respond, her lips merely curving into an unhappy smile, and Dean flirtaciously sidled up to her, greeting, "Hey." Sam just gave an awkwardly said hello.

Pamela hummed, eyeing Dean with a curious look. "Mm," she murmured, "Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back into the frying pan...makes you a special individual. Come on in." Her gaze drifted curiously to Alex. "Though I can't say that I expected to see Miss Montgomery here."

Alex tensed and simply swept past all of them and into the house. "Let's just get this over with."

Pamela stared after her in surprise and Sam shrugged when she looked back to them. "I don't think she likes psychics very much," he admitted apologetically.

As Pamela shoved the men into her home, kicking the door shut behind them, she drawled, "Well, I went through a couple dozen spirits, but no one seemed to know who broke Dean out or how they did it. They don't even know why."

"So what's next then?" Bobby asked.

Pamela rubbed her hands eagerly together. "We're going to see if we can see who did the deed," she replied with ease. At the look on Bobby's face, she laughed and hastily reassured him, "Don't worry. I just wanna get a sneak peek at it." Her eyes widened fractionally. "Like a crystal ball without the crystal."

They followed her further into the house - Alex kept her distance, hanging out in what Avery would have called "behind the scenes". Sam and Dean offered to help, but neither were allowed to as Bobby spread a black tablecloth over a table, symbols of some sort stitched into it.

As flirty as ever, Dean struck up some conversation about a tattoo that Pamela possessed, his eyes lingering on the small of her back when she knelt to grab something. "Who's Jesse?"

Pamela gave a small laugh, standing with candles in her hand. "Well, it wasn't forever."

"His loss," Dean practically purred, earning a sound of disgust from Alex. Dean ignored her.

"Might be your gain," Pamela hummed with a smirk, and then slid past him.

Dean looked pleased. "Dude, I am so in."

"She's going to eat you alive, you bloody moron," Alex grumbled from behind them.

Dean flashed Alex a grin. "Hey, I just got out of jail. Bring it."

Pamela slid past them again and leaned in to whisper to Sam, "You're invited, too."

As soon as she was gone, Dean gave him a look and Alex cackled with a smug look in her sharp blue eyes. "You're _not_ invited, you got me?"

It wasn't long before they were all dropping into a seat. Pamela sat down last, lighting the candles before doing so. Her eyes were thoughtful as she studied them all. Bobby was one side of her, Dean on the other. On Dean's other side was Alex, and beside Alex Sam. Apparently they hadn't trusted her to be seated anywhere else, because the two most able bodied people could stop her if she decided to attack Pamela in annoyance.

Alex had been offended by that reasoning.

"Right," Pamela said, shaking her hands with a grin. "Take each others' hands." Alex grumbled under her breath as she slid her hands into Sam's and Dean's, snorting in amusement at how much larger both of theirs were compared to her own small pale hands. Sam looked just as amused and was gentle as he gripped her hand.

Dean was different; he gripped her hand like it was a life-line and refused to let go. Not that she blamed him; he'd been in Hell for four months, after all. He probably appreciated the reminder that he was no longer there.

"Now," Pamela mused, suddenly snickering. ""I need to touch something our mystery monster touched." She slid her hand down Dean's thigh beneath the table, and he jerked, eyes wide as he stuttered out that he hadn't been touched there.

"My mistake," she mused, and then watched curiously as Dean dropped Alex's hand. He shrugged off a layer of clothing, and then rolled up his short sleeve, revealing a hand print. Alex couldn't see from where she was sitting, but his eyes flickered to Sam, who gawked openly at it.

Alex narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but said nothing, simply closing her eyes as Pamela rested her hand over it and began to murmur something. The second she began to speak, Alex felt a shiver go down her spine, something telling her that this was an incredibly bad idea.

"Castiel?" she suddenly questioned. Pamela's eyes flickered beneath closed eyelids. "No," she said with a rather smug smirk. "Sorry, Castiel, I don't scare easy."

"Castiel?" Dean muttered, confused.

"Its name," Pamela answered. "It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back." She didn't seem bothered by the fact that nearby, the TV's static was going wild, or that the table began to suddenly shake violently. She went back to chanting, and Bobby spoke up.

"Maybe we should stop-"

"I've almost got it," she cut him off, determined. "I command you, show me your face! Show me your face _now_!"

Almost immediately, the candles that littered the table exploded into heated flares that a terrified Alex recoiled away from, her chair tipping backwards. Pamela screamed, her eyes burning with something hot and white, and she collapsed a second later.

"Call an ambulance!" Bobby shouted, diving to the floor to make sure she was alright. She began to sob as Sam left the room at a run, phone in hand, and Dean scrambled over beside Bobby with worried eyes.

She tried to open her eyes, but both men were horrified to realize that there were no eyes to open. "I can't see!" she screamed, and from where Alex had pressed herself against a wall, shivering, she covered her ears to block out the sounds. "I can't see, oh God!"

Sam pressed a hand to his ear to block out the sound, calling for an ambulance.

* * *

She was aware of the eyes on her pale face as she sat there, her hands in her lap and her eyes locked on the table in front of her. Every now and then, she'd shiver, looking like a frightened animal almost.

"Alex," Dean began after a moment, but was interrupted when Sam came back, tucking his phone into his pocket. He was distracted immediately. "What did Bobby say?"

Sam smiled grimly. "She's stable and out of the ICU, but...she's blind. Her eyes were literally burned out of her sockets."

"I'll find this Castiel and crush it," Dean snarled, and then paused when Alex shook her head slowly, clearing her throat. They turned their gaze on her and Sam slid into the booth, curious.

"Dean," she rasped, "She took a peek at him and her eyes burned out...do you really think it'd be smart to speak to this thing face to face?" She trembled, reaching for her water. "The power that came off of whatever it was...it was horribly powerful."

"You got a better idea?" he challenged, and Sam grabbed his shoulder to cut off his temper, noticing that Alex was legitimately frightened by what she'd seen.

"She's right. I followed some demons to town, right? So we go find them. Someone's gotta know something about something," Sam told him. Alex looked up as a waitress came back, her blue eyes piercing and her lips pulled back into a furious snarl, partially human, partially canine as she dropped three plates of pie onto the table and pulled up a chair with a smug look.

"Can we help you?" Sam asked.

"I'm sorry." She rested a chin on her open palm, flashing her teeth as her eyes flickered black. "I thought you were looking for us." Sam's hand reached for a weapon, Alex's rippling into existence, but they did nothing more than lock the door.

"Dean," the waitress hummed, "To Hell and back. Aren't you one lucky duck."

He smirked cockily. "That's me."

"So you just get to stroll out of the pit? What makes you so special?" She sneered, irritated. Alex, let her hand rest on the hilt of her weapon as a warning."

"I like to think it's because of my perky nipples," Dean joked, and then took on a serious expression. "I don't know."

"It wasn't him," Alex growled furiously. "We don't know who pulled him out."

She sneered, as if she didn't believe them. "Right. Lying's a sin, you know." She grinned at Alex. "Not that it matters for you, little skinwalker. You aren't waiting on Heaven _or_ Hell. Mind your tones; I can drag him back to Hell myself."

Alex's gaze hardened and she rocketed to her feet with a snarl on her face, furious, but before she could do anything, Dean had grabbed her arm and shoved her back into her seat. "No, you won't," he said calmly, giving her a look. She glared back before looking towards where Sam was watching anxiously.

"No?"

"Because if you were going to do it, you already would have." Dean grinned viciously. "Fact is, you don't know what cut me loose. And you're just as freaked out as we are. Lookin' for answers. Maybe it was some spirit, or some big badass demon. I'm guessing they don't tell you squat at your pay grade. Whoever it was, they want me out." He leaned towards her. "And they're a hell of a lot stronger than you are. So try and send me back, I dare you."

She beamed. "I'm going to reach down your throat and rip out your lungs."

Sam scowled at her, and then blinked when his brother outright decked the woman. She took another three hits before he pulled back.

"That's what I thought," Dean said smugly. "Let's go, Sammy. Mutt."

Alex quite literally spit at his shoes before hopping to her feet, taking the plate of untouched pie with her. Dean threw a ten dollar bill over his shoulder, calling back, "For the pie!"

Alex didn't hesitate to eat her slice as they crossed the street outside. She used her fingers, much to the Winchesters' amusement, but she ignored their comments as she walked, struggling to keep her mind on better things.

"We're not going to just leave them in there, are we?" Sam hissed to his brother as they walked.

"There's three of the bloody bastards," Alex mumbled around her pie. "We've only got your knife and mine."

"I've killed a lot more on my own," Sam protested, but Dean gave him a look and promptly told him that he wouldn't be doing it anymore.

"Dean," Sam tried to protest again, but Alex cut him off, voice sharp.

"They're as scared as I am," she bit out. "Scared of whatever pulled Winchester number one out of Hell. This thing is powerful, Sam. We'll deal with the demons later."

"Wait...you're actually _scared_?" Dean looked at her in wonder and she showed him her sharpened teeth.

"Faff off, Winchester."

"There's the British talk we don't get," he said cheerfully in response.

Alex slammed the rest of her pie into his face.

* * *

Hours later found both Alex and Dean in shock and seated in Bobby's car as he drove. Alex was curled up into a tight ball, shaking like a leaf, nasty gashes covering her slim form, and Dean sat in the passenger seat, swiping blood off of his face.

Neither wore a smile.

"How you doing, kids?" Bobby asked, looking worried as he glanced in the mirror to check on Alex.

"Just peachy," Dean said sarcastically. "Aside from the church bells ringin' in my head."

It had happened out of nowhere; both had been sleeping rather peacefully in the rented apartment room the four hunters had agreed to share. Alex had curled up on the bed to sleep, deciding Sam would take the floor, and Dean had been passed out on the couch. Sam had - as Alex had bitingly snarled under her breath later - disappeared again, and it had been peaceful.

Until the sound had come screaming through their heads. Alex had noticed it first, naturally, hearing it even when Dean hadn't. She'd screamed, clamping her hands over her ears, waking Dean up. He'd stared blearily at her before he'd taken notice of the TV. Static had appeared on it.

Moments later, as Alex tried to shove her head beneath pillows, screaming bloody murder, he'd heard it to. The sound had been piercing, shattering the pretty ceiling above them to the point that it had collapsed onto them, slicing them both up pretty good.

Bobby had arrived then, seen what was happening, and had made sure they were both alright before they'd all three agreed to leave.

Dean glanced over his shoulder to check on the skinwalker in the back seat. A frown was on his face when he saw that she was murmuring something to herself, her ears covered and her eyes screwed shut, her form threatening to change. "...you okay back there, puppy?"

"No," she rasped.

He left it at that, instead dialing a number into his phone. After a moment, Alex's sharp ears picked up an answer. "Hey," Sam said into the phone.

"What are you doing?" Dean demanded, and Bobby glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Couldn't sleep, went to get a burger."

"In my car?" Alex snorted, slowly uncurling herself. Shock was leaving her system, her face still pale and her eyes full of uncharacteristic fear, but gone enough that she wasn't able to function.

"Force of habit. Sorry. Why are you up?"

Dean's face hardened, and Alex could see it coming a second before he spoke. "Bobby's back, we're going to grab a beer." Bobby looked shocked, and Dean shushed him silently before he could speak. Sam asked them to spill some for him, and Dean smirked. "Done. Catch you later, Sammy."

"Why didn't you tell him?" Bobby huffed as Dean put his phone down. Alex squirmed forward in her seat so that her face was closer.

"He'd try to stop us," Dean said grimly.

"No," Alex huffed, "We can't...Winchester, no way in hell. We're _not_ summoning it."

"You can't be serious!" Bobby agreed with Alex. Dean didn't answer and Bobby snapped, "We don't know what it is, Dean! A demon, an all powerful witch, it could be anything."

"It's not a skinwalker," Alex drawled. "We don't do that kind of thing."

"That's why we're going to be ready for anything," Dean said calmly. "We've got the big-time magic knife, you've got an aresenal in the trunk..."

"Bad idea," Bobby told him.

"What other choice do we have?"

"Life?" Alex snapped. "You're bloody insane, Winchester!"

"Puppy cowering in the back seat doesn't get a voice in the matter!" he retorted.

Alex bristled. "Whatever that thing was, it's powerful, Dean." Her voice was deadly, her eyes glinting worriedly. "If you die again, Sam's going to lose it. I could fell the power that was coming off of it, and it wasn't something that we should mess with. Leave it be and appreciate the fact that it brought you back."

"What she said," Bobby said.

But Dean was having none of it, and between the three of them arguing for the next few minutes and reluctant agreeing, it was decided.

They would fight.

* * *

"The hell are you doing down there?" Dean called to Alex, who's pale face was set in a determined look. She'd pushed past the intense fear she felt towards whatever they were summoning to help, and her fingers were stained white with the paint that she and Bobby were using to pain countless amounts of symbols on the walls.

"Traps and talismans," she explained. "Easy. What're you faffing around with?"

"Stakes, iron, silver, salt, knife, your weird lade. We're pretty much set to catch and kill anything I've ever heard of," Dean reported.

"Except chupacabras, since you've never seen one," she muttered, earning a snort on his behalf.

"This is still a bad idea," Bobby muttered, shaking his head.

"We heard you the first ten times. What do you say we ring the dinner bell?" Dean smirked, crossing his muscular arms across his chest without an ounce of worry tensing him. But Alex knew better; she could see it in his green eyes. "You guys done?"

"Yeah." Alex finished with the symbol she'd painted, swiping her hands on her already white-stained jeans. "I called Avery before this, told her what was happening in case I didn't call back, by the way. I hope you bloody fools don't mind."

Dean shrugged. "Whatever. Ready, Bobby?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," he sighed, heading over to the table they were using. He took a pinch of something out of a bowl as Alex removed her blade from the inside of her arm, twirling it expertly before carefully shoving it down the front of her tank top, using her bra to keep it in place. Dean gave her a look, and she shrugged, smirking as the bowl smoked and Bobby began to chant.

"What?" she hummed. "Don't want my goods damaged?"

Dean only shook his head, snickering at her words. "Not really."

Alex patted her chest with an affectionate look cast downwards. "Don't worry, my goods are perfectly safe. I wouldn't be so sure about your little-"

"Are you done flirting?" Bobby said impatiently, looking grouchy. He'd finished the incantation, shaking his head. Nothing had happened, and disappointment flashed across Dean's face for a moment. "I don't think we're gonna be fightin'."

"You sure you did it right?" Dean huffed, and then raised his hands in surrender when Bobby scowled furiously. "Sorry, sure ya did."

"Dean," Alex suddenly whispered, cowering towards a corner of the room, her blue eyes wide with fear. "It's coming-"

She'd barely said so when a gust of wind seemed to strike the building. Dean grabbed a shotgun, readying it for usage, and Alex yanked her blade out but remained hidden. Bobby grabbed a handgun.

"Maybe it's the wind," Dean said hopefully.

As if it had been waiting for that moment, the doors blew open with a loud crashing sound. In the shadowed doorway stood a man, dark hair tusseled and blue eyes watching them silently. The trench coat he wore billowed around him as he started forward, lights blowing out with every step.

"Oh, bloody hell," Alex whispered, hiding in her corner and not daring to get close.

Dean and Bobby fired off shots, but neither salt nor wood did any good. Dean yanked out the demon knife, and the man - Castiel, any of them would have guessed - simply looked down, practically amused.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean huffed, eyes furious.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," Castiel replied in a deep voice. He didn't flinch when Dean plunged the demon knife into his chest - into his heart. Instead, he looked down, not surprised. He gripped the hilt, easily pulling it out, and then dropped it so that it clattered on the floor. When Bobby came behind, Castiel twirled on his heel in an almost elegant manner and touched Bobby's forehead after stopping the blow, and Alex made a sound of horror when Bobby crumpled.

Castiel's eyes turned on her next, and she pressed her back against the wall, brandishing her weapon.

It was only for a moment, but his gaze touched the blade, and shock flashed over his face.

Then he was impassive, narrowing his eyes as he stated simply, "We need to talk, Dean...alone."

Dean stepped between he and Alex, eyes hard with a wordless challenge. _Don't touch her_ , his body language said. Castiel didn't look surprised, only accepted such a thing and gestured to himself. "I do not intend to hurt anyone; your friend is alive."

"Who are you," Dean growled as Alex slunk past both of them, blade never leaving her hand. She dropped beside Bobby, checking his pulse.

"Castiel."

"Yeah, we figured as much." Dean wasn't pleased with the answer. "I mean, _what_ are you?"

Castiel blinked once and said without hesitation, "I am an angel of the Lord." Dean gave a bitter laugh, claiming that it didn't exist despite Alex's claim that it might be possible. "This is your problem," he sighed, "You have no faith."

Alex went silent with horror when lightning suddenly flashed across the sky, shutting the remainder of the lights off and creating a shadow that appeared behind Castiel. Wings stretched out, each individual feather fluttering beautifully.

"...some angel you are," Dean finally choked out. "You burned out that poor woman's eyes!"

"I warned her not to spy on my true form," Castiel explained, not bothered by what he'd done. "It can be...overwhelming to humans. And so can my real voice, but both of you already knew that."

Alex remembered the sound that had nearly split her head open from the inside and growled low in her throat as Dean said bitingly, "You mean the gas station and the motel. Buddy, next time, lower the volume."

"That was my mistake." Castiel grimaced just barely. "Certain special people can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them, but I was wrong." A pause, and he glanced back to Alex when she muttered under her breath. "You should not have been there. We were told that you would be with the abomination."

Alex opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but Dean interrupted her again, earning a snarl for his efforts. "And what visage are you in now, huh? Some holy tax accountant?"

Castiel studied himself, looking down. A hand lifted to touch his clothed chest. "This? A vessel."

"You're possessing some innocent person?" Alex hoarsely whispered.

"A devout man, he actually prayed for this," Castiel corrected.

Dean gave another sarcastic laugh, not looking like he believed anything he was being told. "Right. I'm not buying it. So who are you really? Why would you rescue me from Hell?"

"I told you," Castiel answered, puzzled. "I'm an angel of the Lord. Good things do happen, Dean." Dean shook his head, and Alex frowned as Castiel's face flashed with shock. "You don't think you deserve to be saved?"

"Why?" Alex questioned shakily. She deserved an answer, she decided. She'd picked up the pieces, after all. Literally. "Why would you save him?"

"Because God commanded it," Castiel said, raising his chin. Sharp blue eyes, not nearly as light and ice-colored as her own, met her gaze as he turned to face her. His gaze locked on her blade, never leaving it. "Because we have work for him...for both of you."

* * *

 _Another quick chapter...:D_


	15. Are You There, God?

**|September 25, 2008|**

"Well then," Sam said bitterly, throwing the book in his hands aside without a car and earning a nasty look from Bobby for being mean to his belongings. "Tell me. What else could it be?"

"Look," Dean snapped back, not looking pleased with his brother. Not that Alex could blame him; she was agitated with the younger Winchester, too, after what he'd done the previous few days. She didn't believe him on most of what he'd said that he'd been doing. And she didn't think Dean did either. "All I know is that I wasn't groped by an angel."

"Are we sure?" Alex said tiredly. She just wanted to go back to Avery's. She was tired of all of this. "Why do you think he would lie about it? We both saw the wings."

"Maybe he's a demon," Dean shot back. "Demons can have different appearances, right? Or some kind of other supernatural creature from another country."

"A demon who's immune to salt rounds, devil's traps, even Ruby's knife? Did you even get close with Alex's?" Sam glared at him. "It's clearly an angel, Dean. You just met one, but you're an ass and refusing to believe it."

"Look who's talking," Alex said bitterly, "The one who's never there when we need him to be there."

Sam's gaze turned furious as he glared at her, and she glared back, subconsciously stroking the scar on her face, smirking maliciously just to show him that she couldn't move that side of her face.

"You three chuchkle heads want to keep arguing, or do you want to come and take a look at this?" Bobby finally cut in, tired of their bickering. Alex didn't move, remaining where she was curled up. The other two went over, however, and peered over his shoulder. "Biblical, pre-biblical, some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from Hell, Dean."

"Dean, this is good news," Sam tried to insist.

"How exactly is this good news?" Alex barked.

"Because for once, this isn't just more demons!" Sam flashed a huge grin, looking excited. "I mean, it was a good guy for once, you know?" He pushed his dark hair out of his face. "This is _good_."

"Okay," Dean finally agreed, reluctant. "Say it is. Say I was pulled out of Hell by an angel. "Then what? There's a _God_?"

"At this point, probably," Bobby said firmly, pressing his lips together almost unhappily. He glanced over at Alex when she made a sound of disbelief; apparently angels were believable. God? No.

"I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, Dean, but this is becoming less about faith and more about proof," Sam said confidently, dark eyes flashing excitedly. Unlike the rest of them, he was beyond ecstatic, eager to figure out what was going on and to find out more about the angels.

"Proof? That there's a God out there that actually cares? Sorry, I'm not buying it," Dean retorted.

"Why not?" Sam demanded, sounding angry and frustrated.

"I mean," Dean continued, as if Sam hadn't spoken. "I've saved some people. Okay? I figured that made up for the stealing I did when I was a kid and the ditching of chicks, but why do I deserve to get saved over anyone else? Huh?"

"Apparently you're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs," Sam pointed out.

Bobby cut in finally, his eyes flashing as he jerked his chin towards the silent skinwalker, who was lost in thought, her arms clutching a pillow to her chest. "Boys, I think you've managed to forget that Dean's not the only one."

Recognizing that she was being brought up, Alex said with surprising blunt blankness, "Kill me now. I don't want anything to do with angels and God. The angels are power houses, and God's a bloody arse who could care less about the world." She pushed her hand through her red-blonde hair. "Look, I told you. I'm done with this. I found out about the angels with you people, I'm out. I'm going back to Avery now, okay?" She stood.

"But, Alex," Sam protested, "Don't you want to know _why_ they pointed you out, too?"

"Not really, no." Alex brushed her jeans off, propping her hand on her hip. Her scarred face pulled into a grimace. "I don't like it. I don't want to be singled out more than I already am as a hunting skinwalker. Or ex-hunter. Whatever."

Dean threw his hands up in the air. "What she said. This isn't a good thing to be singled out about, Sammy!"

Sam puffed up in anger. "Well, too bad. I think he wants you to strap your-" A pause. "Wait, you're actually leaving?"

Alex tucked her hair behind her ear, the long strands tangling in her fingers. Icy eyes lifted to lock with Sam's, and she gave a tight smile. "Yes. I told you; I'm tired of this job. I did clean up duty, did my fair share of demonic fun. I'm done with it all. if you really, _really_ need to ask for some help, go ahead and stop by, but no promises that I'll help."

Bobby climbed to his feet with a heavy sigh. "I'll walk ya to the car, Alex. You taking yours?"

She nodded quietly. "Mhm. Thanks, Bobby." She glanced back over her shoulder, smiling faintly at Dean with a look that was nearly haunted, her gaze holding his with ease. "...nice to tease ya again, Winchester. See you around."

That said, Alex slid from the house, leaving Dean to stand there in stunned silence. Sam was just as confused. "Since when were you two on friendly terms?"

Dean shrugged, as confused as he was as he responded, "No clue."

* * *

It was when Sam was coming back after making a run to fetch pie and other delicious treats for the trio to enjoy while they did research on angels that Sam realized that something was wrong. For one, Bobby was approaching the car without a hint of warmth on his face.

Bobby knocked on the window a split second later, waving for him to roll it down. Sam did just that, and Bobby said grimly,"Keep the engine running. I got a friend one state over - Olivia Lowry. been trying to reach her for days on this angel thing. It's not like her to ignore this many calls, you know?"

"...she's a hunter," Sam recognized.

"Yeah. We're gonna go check up on her. You guys are following me." That said, Bobby pushed away from the Impala to go to his own vehicle. Dean slid into view, glaring at his brother until Sam scooted over for him to climb in. Once he'd climbed in, he grabbed the bag of food and beamed - until he discovered there was no pie.

He shot a look of betrayal at Sam.

Sam only shrugged. "What?"

"Where the hell is my pie?" Dean merely seethed, and then scowled and tossed the food into the backseat. He half-expected a yelp of irritation, but when silence came, he scolded himself in annoyance.

What did he care that Alex wasn't there? Good riddance?

He hit the gas pedal, following Bobby as he pulled out of the lot.

* * *

Alex had made a pit stop to fill the gas tank of her car and was heading inside the pretty much empty gas station when the phone she'd stolen from the Winchesters to use while she'd been with them vibrated, warning her that someone was on the other end trying to get her attention. She puffed out a breath, noting that she could see it as she picked up.

"Hullo?" she said impatiently.

"Alex!"

She jumped at the loud noise of the person on the other end. "Bobby?" she muttered, confused. She slid the phone between her ear and shoulder, humming as she picked out some snacks to take with her while she drove to Cheyenne. "What's up?"

"Need you to get your ass back here." She blinked at his harsh tone. He seemed breathless almost. "Something's going on with hunters. Dozens of 'em have had their hearts ripped from their chest by ghosts. Dunno why, dunno how. Can you get back here tonight?"

Alex blinked her blue eyes in surprise. "I can _try_ ," she supplied with a shrug of her shoulders. She headed for the cash register. "Sure. Are the Winchesters-"

"They're heading back. We were lookin' around, seeing how everyone else was. No good news. That friend of yours should be fine, I think. Just worry about yourself and meet us back at my place."

"Yeah," Alex agreed. She could hear the worry and seriousness in his voice, and she found herself worried about the older hunter. "I'll come back. But it doesn't mean I have to like it. I guess I can't really get away from it if it's after everyone, hm?"

"Right." Bobby sounded breathless as he spoke. Suddenly, he went silent, and Alex called his name quietly, prompting his answer.

All she heard on the other end were giggles, and then the line cut off.

Truly worried now, Alex hung up. She hesitated, and then dialed Sam's phone number, hoping he would answer. When he didn't, she reluctantly dialed Dean's, and then demanded as soon as someone picked up, "Winchester?"

"Hey, mutt. You seeing ghosts, too?"

Alex took a deep breath and let it out in a gust of white. Recognizing it for what it was now, she yanked her blade free and held it at the ready, simply walking out of the store and abandoning the idea of food when she saw that there was no cashier. "Not yet, but Bobby called about getting back to his home. And I can see my breath, so I'm expecting a visitor at any moment."

Dean lost his taunting tone as he replied, "Sam just got a visit from Henriksen." His voice became muffled for a second as he asked, "Hey, Sammy, what did he want?"

"Revenge," came Sam's faint groan, "Cause we got him killed."

"Sam," he protested, but Sam wasn't having any reassurance and simply snapped, "Well, we did."

"What he said," Alex agreed with a grimace. "Bobby dropped the call, Winchester, I can't get back on the line with him. I - bloody _hell_ ," she rasped, stopping dead in her tracks.

Standing at the side of the car was a girl. She wasn't older then ten or eleven, and her face was dotted with scarring similar to her own. Her clothing was torn, and tears were clear in her eyes. "You promised to help me," she sobbed. "You ripped me to shreds!"

"Alex?" Dean demanded on the other end.

She didn't answer, her breath coming quickly as she rasped, "I...I didn't..."

She remembered the girl. With ease, like she'd seen her only yesterday, when in reality, it had been years. She ran her tongue over her white teeth, remembering the blood she'd tasted on them.

" _Alex_ ," Dean said again, firm. "Snap out of it!"

"Right," Alex muttered, shaking her head. She slashed through the ghost when it came screaming at her suddenly, vicious and angry, and her voice trembled as she rasped, "I'm on my way to Bobby's."

"You good?" he demanded.

"Fine," she muttered, lying. "Completely...not fine, actually, but I have no choice but to be fine. I'll meet you at Bobby's. Make sure he's alright if you get there first." She hung up quickly, the symbols on the hilt of her blade glowing warningly, and she thought of what Castiel said.

Something told her this had to do with the angels. Her hands shook as she started the car, and she nearly screamed when she pulled back and slammed through another ghost that had appeared - one she knew immediately. Her heart pounded as she hit the gas, her blue eyes wide as she remembered that one, too.

She remembered her teeth sinking into flesh as they'd pleaded hysterically for their life. She remembered their blood washing over her tongue.

She remembered a lot.

And she hated all of it.

* * *

"Bobby?" Dean called when he and Sam stepped into their father figure's home. Each held a loaded gun, and Sam ducked down after a moment, face grim when he held up an iron poker. "I'll go upstairs," he told him. "You check outside."

"Right," Sam murmured, heading back out of the door. He headed into the junkyard full of old cars, his eyes narrowed with thought as he called for Bobby, receiving no response. Dean watched him go and then went back to work.

They _had_ to find Bobby. He wasn't sure what he'd do if they didn't...

"Bobby!" he called upon getting to the top of the stairs. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, raising his gun when a door opened and no one made an appearance. "Come out, come out, whoever you are," he said irritably, not in the mood to mess around with ghosts.

"Dean Winchester," a voice behind him drawled. He whirled around to discover someone he had certainly not expected to be there. She was dressed simply, in a white dress, her dark hair falling around her shoulders and her eyes glittering angrily. "Still so bossy." She looked down at herself, making a face. "This is what I looked like before that demon cut my hair off and dressed me like a slut, you know."

"Meg?" he rasped.

"Hi," she chirped, though he wasn't exactly pleased with the look on her face. "I'm not a demon, it's okay."

"You're the girl the demon possessed," he recognized.

"Meg masters, nice to finally talk to you when I'm not...you know, choking on my own blood." She lifted her hands, and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously, not trusting her a bit. "Seriously, I'm just a college girl. Sorry - was. I was walking home one night and got jumped by this smoke...next thing you know, I'm a prisoner in here." She tapped a finger on her temple. "I was awake. I had to watch while she murdered people."

Dean shook his head, irritation creeping through his mind. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, yeah?" she challenged. Meg lifted her chin in defiance. "Sorry you had me thrown off a building?"

"Well, we though-"

She cut him off. "No, you didn't think! I kept waiting! Praying! I was trapped in there screaming at you! I was pleading for someone to help me! You're supposed to help people, Dean, why didn't you just help _me_?"

"I'm sorry," was all he could bring himself to stay, guilt making his voice hoarse.

"Stop saying you're sorry!" she screamed, slapping him and sending him down to the ground. His gun skittered away, and he swore, reaching for it, but she kicked him before he could get to it.

"We didn't know," he said quietly, grimacing as he tasted blood.

"No," she spat, "You just attacked! Did you ever think there was a human girl in here? No! You just charged in, slashing and burning...like you were some kind of hero!" She knelt, grabbing him by the front of his jacket, her teeth bared maliciously. He caught sight of a strange mark on her hand. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be ridden for months by pure evil...while you family had no idea what happened to you?"

"We did the best we could," Dean muttered, as if he was reciting something he'd been told. His mind flashed back to his father, and he scowled, as if he hated the thought.

"It wasn't just me," Meg continued, shaking with rage. "I had a sister...a little sister... She worshipped me! You know how little siblings are, right?" She gave a breathless laugh. "How they'll do anything for you. She was never the same after I went missing...she got so lost...and when my body was lying in a morgue, beaten and broken..."

Dean squinted his eyes shut as if it would block out the words, and distantly, he could hear Sam shouting outside for Bobby to hold on.

"Do you know what that did to her? She _killed herself_!" Meg slammed a foot into Dean's side, and he grunted, grimacing in pain. "Because of you, Dean! Because all you were thinking about was _your_ family, _your_ revenge, and _your_ demons! Latin a little sooner and I'd still be here - alive! My baby sister would still be... That blood is on _you_!"  
"You're not wrong," he admitted, grimacing when her foot connected with his face. He winced, spitting blood. He finally got a hold on his gun and swung it around, aiming it at Meg with a scowl.

She grinned. "Come on, Dean, did you get you brain french-fried in Hell? You can't shoot me with bullets."

"No," he mused, smirking when he saw a flash of movement behind her. "But she can wield that blade of hers pretty damn good."

Meg disappeared as Alex's blade ran her through, and Alex straightened, propping a hand on her hip as she looked down at him. "Need some help, Winchester?" she hummed, eyes glinting as she lined her blade back up and let it disappear. She offered a hand, and with some reluctance, he took it, letting the skinwalker pull him to his feet.

"Not really," he huffed, pointing the chandelier above his head. "Look. Iron."

"No," she gasped sarcastically, slapping a hand over her mouth. "Really? I didn't know iron messed ghosts up. A word of thanks would be lovely, you bloody fool."

He rolled his eyes and said nothing.

Rather than saying anything, Alex headed back down the stairs and Dean silently wondered if she'd gotten there first, or if she'd simply scaled a wall, because no one just appeared like that. They were met at the bottom of the stairs by an exhausted Bobby and Sam, who smiled tightly in greeting at the skinwalker.

She ignored him, instead asking gently, "Are you alright, Bobby?"

"Fine," he muttered, leading them into his study. He threw himself down into a chair there, seeking a moment of rest. As he took it, Alex pressed her lips together and asked softly, "These spirits...do...are they all people that we've seen before?"

"People we couldn't save," Sam confirmed.

Alex shuddered, pressing a hand over her eyes for a moment before Dean spoke again, turning to Sam. "I saw something on Meg, Sam...she have a tattoo when she was alive?" Sam shook his head and he continued to explain. "it was like this...mark. On her hand - almost like a brand."

"I saw a mark, too," Sam agreed. "On Henriksen."

"Description?" Bobby requested as he opened his eyes, standing again. He looked like he felt a lot better, and spared Alex a kind smile. Sam settled down to sketch the mark out, Alex peering curiously over Dean shoulder as Sam showed it to them.

"That's it," Dean announced.

Bobby took one look at it and swore. "I may have seen this before. We got to move. C'mon, follow me."

Bobby strode out of the study without waiting and Alex scurried after him, pausing only when Sam and Dean took too long to follow. "Okay, " Sam said slowly. "Where are we going?"  
"Some place safe, you idjit," Bobby grumbled. He grabbed some books as they left the room, and then showed them to a door. He kicked it open without hesitation and then headed down a staircase. Alex kept close, trusting Bobby entirely, while Sam and Dean hesitated before following.

Within minutes, they found themselves looking around a room that was made entirely of iron and covered with things like pentagrams and devil's traps. Sam gawked at all of it, and Bobby smirked. "Solid iron. Completely coated in salt. One hundred percent ghost-proof."

"You built a _panic room_?" Sam demanded, making Alex laugh as she investigated everything. She was relieved to discover that little to none of it was laced with silver.

"I had a weekend off," Bobby retorted.

"Bobby," Dean said with a grin on his face. "You're awesome."

* * *

"See, this is why I can't get behind God."

They all paused in what they'd been doing - Sam in making bullets with his brother, Alex in polishing her blade, and Bobby in reading - to look up. "What the bloody hell are you talking about, Winchester?" Alex finally asked, rather cranky that this was happening and that she hadn't been able to go back to Avery like she wanted.

"If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people, that's how it is. No rhyme or reason, just random and horrible evil. I get it. Okay, I can roll with that." Dean spoke irritably, dropping a finished bullet into a pile they'd made.

"But..." Sam encouraged.

"Don't encourage him," Alex muttered, "I hate hearing him voice his own opinions." Though she did find herself agreeing with what she knew he was about to say.

"But if he is out there," Dean continued, "What's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all of these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself?" Dean threw his hands in the air. "You know, why doesn't he help?"

Sam glanced to Bobby, and Bobby arched a brow. "I ain't touching this one with a ten foot pole, Sam." He looked back down to his book, and then narrowed his eyes. "Found it."

Alex's head snapped up. "You did?"

He nodded, settling down to read out the information. "The symbol you saw - the brand on the ghosts - it's the Mark of the Witness."

"Witness?" Sam questioned. He stopped in what he was doing to stand, coming to stand beside Bobby and read over his shoulder. Bobby waved him off, giving him a dark look that showed he wasn't fond of him doing that. "Witness to what?"

"The unnatural," Bobby answered. Alex tensed at the word, not a fan of it after being called such many times before. "None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts...they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs, it ain't their fault. Someone rose them. They'd have gone on doing what they've been doing up till now if it were their choice."

"So who brought them back?" Alex asked softly, remembering the two spirits she'd seen and shivering. She'd never forget them; she remembered their deaths with ease, and they haunted her every waking moment.

Bobby gave her a look, and she glared. He was giving people a lot of nasty looks today! "Do I look like I know? Whoever it was used a spell so powerful, it left a mark. A brand on their souls. Whoever did this has big plans." He slammed the book shut with a scowl. "It's called 'the rising of the witness'. It's part of an ancient prophecy."

"And what book is that prophecy from?" Dean requested, studying a bullet.

"Well, the widely distributed version's just for tourists." Bobby rolled his eyes. "Long story short - Revelations. This is a sign, kiddos."

"A sign of what exactly?" Sam demanded, crossing his arms. Alex thought he looked quite moose-ly from the way he towered above all of them when he stood and they were sitting.

Bobby smiled grimly. "The apocalypse."

"The apocalypse?" Alex repeated.

"The apocalypse, apocalypse?" Dean echoed. "The four horsemen, pestilence, five-dollar-a -gallon-gas apocalypse?"

Sam gave him a strange look as Bobby confirmed it. "That's the one. The rise of the witnesses is a mile marker."

"Okay," Sam said, letting out a huge breath of air. He pushed his hair out of his eyes, narrowing them. "So what do we do now?"

"First things first. How about we survive our friends out there?" Bobby suggested wryly.

Alex pressed her lips together. "We don't?" she said sarcastically, and Bobby threw something at her. She ducked, smirking slightly, and Dean snickered.

"Very funny, you idjit," Bobby huffed, and then continued, gesturing to a paper beside him. "This spell should send the witnesses back to rest."

" _Should_?" Sam said with disbelief written across his face. "Bobby-"

"If I translate it correctly," Bobby said firmly. "I think I've got everything we need here at the house."

"Any chance it's all in here?" Dean said with a hopeful look written across his face.

"You thought our luck was gonna start now? It's gotta be cast over an open fire."

"Fireplace in the library," Alex murmured, and Bobby nodded. She grimaced, making a face. "That's nowhere near as appearing as a panic room, Bobby."

"Sorry, not my choice." Bobby climbed to his feet, shoving the spell's paper into a pocket on the front of his shirt. "Cover each other," he ordered, pressing a handgun that was already loaded into her Alex's hand. She eyed it with distaste, preferring her blade, but recognized how useful it would be. "Aim carefully. Don't run out of ammo until I'm done, or they'll shred you. Are we ready?"

Dean clicked the safety off of his own gun and gave a nod, and Sam wasn't far behind.

"Let's go."

With reluctance, Bobby swung open the door to the panic room. As they stepped out, Alex's sharp eyes caught sight of a man sitting on the stairs they needed to climb, a strange smile on his face. "Hey, Dean," he said suddenly, looking up. "You remember me?"

"Ronald, huh?" Dean muttered, clenching his jaw. "With the laser eyes? Wish I could say it's good to see you."

 _Two for him_ , Alex counted as Bobby shot the ghost and snapped at them to shoot and not talk. Just how many ghosts of theirs had been dragged up?

They headed for the living room, and Sam created a salt circle the second they were in there. Dean hurried over to the fireplace to light it, and Alex, feeling the pressure that had begun to gather, began to pace, her heart pounding in her chest. A growl rumbled in her chest.

"Sam," Bobby ordered, "Upstairs, linen closet - red hex box. It'll be heavy."

"Got it," he said, and then booked it. Alex watched him go, and then stiffened when a pair of girls appeared in the living room, eyes not exactly nice. "Bobby," one said, and Alex lifted her gun just a split second after Dean fired. Her gaze darted to his for the briefest of moments, and he gave a curt nod.

He had Bobby's back.

"Alex," Bobby continued, swallowing. "Kitchen. Cutlery drawer. It has a false bottom. Hemlock, opium, wormwood."

"On it," she murmured, bolting out of the room. She decided against questioning the use of opium, and instead focused on the situation at hand. Questions could come later.

Her sharp hearing caught the voices the second the girls reappeared and started speaking. "Bobby," the first girl repeated. "You walked right by us while that monster ate us all up!"

"You could have saved us, Bobby," the other agreed.

A gun went off, and Alex shuddered, digging desperately through the drawer. When she found the false bottom, she grinned - though it vanished when the doors to the kitchen slammed shut.

"Alex?" Bobby shouted, and she found herself scowling, digging for the supplies.

"I'm fine," she called back reassuringly. "Keep working, Bobby! Winchester's got your...back..." She trailed off, her face going white when she saw the enraged face of the girl in front of her.

"You promised!" she screamed, and Alex instinctively reached for her gun, but one flick of the girl's fingers and it was gone, skittering away. She slammed her hands over her ears with a cry. "You _promised_ you'd come back!"

"I'm sorry," Alex shrieked, screwing her eyes shut. "I'm _sorry_."

"And you did!" The girl slapped a hand over her cheek, tracing the scar. "Oh, you did! But you didn't save me, did you? NO! You just shredded me, like the other thing planned to do! You took those stupid monstrous teeth of yours and you ripped me apart, piece by piece! Look! _Look at me_! Do you see what you did?"

Alex's nails drew blood as she dug them into the delicate skin behind her ear, trying to block out the girl's screaming. "I didn't," she stammered. "I-I didn't, it wasn't my fault-"

"But it _was_ ," she shouted. "It was all your fault! It was your fault that I'm dead! It will always be your fault!" The girl disappeared - and then reappeared in front of her. Alex didn't notice until the girl suddenly thrust her hand into Alex's chest. Alex made a choked sound of pain, her eyes snapping open.

"Why is it?" the girl snarled, staring into her eyes, "That you think you _deserve_ so much as a happy life? You should go to Hell for what you did. You're worse than the devil himself, you cold hearted bitch! You should have been torn apart by the hellhounds, felt how it feels to have teeth and claws tearing into you-"

The sound of a gun exploded in her ears suddenly, and Alex screamed again as it disappeared.

Sam lowered his gun, dark eyes immediately locking on Alex. "You okay?"

"N-no," she croaked, stumbling to her feet. He came over to help her, the red box he'd been sent to get tucked under his arm. He waited as she gathered the needed supplies, and then rushed with her into the living room, where Bobby was busy organizing and Dean was shooting ghosts as they appeared.

Ronald made a sudden show, and Dean huffed, "Hey, come on, man. I thought we were pals."

"That's when I was breathing," he snarled. "Now...I'm gonna eat you _alive_."

"Come on, I'm not a cheeseburger," Dean said with a near pout. He moved to shoot the ghost, but it disappeared before he could. Swearing, he looked around, hearing Bobby begin to recite something that he didn't understand.

A window slammed open as Alex was setting what she'd been sent down next to Bobby. Her gaze snapped up in time to see wind that came out of nowhere blow the salt circle Sam had made out of the way, and her face went pale, her gun appearing in her hand quickly. Meg suddenly materialized and Alex fired the gun at her, and then at the man that appeared behind Dean.

Various ghosts appeared and disappeared as Bobby recited the spell and they kept them off of him, and when Alex's gun ran out of bullets, she withdrew her blade, slashing through them as quickly as she could. Dean was quickly reduced to an iron rod that he snatched from beside the fireplace, and Sam fired at a ghost that appeared behind him.

"Sam!" Dean suddenly bellowed. Alex whirled around to discover Sam pressed against a wall, pinned there by a desk. He grunted in pain, trying to shove it away as the twin girls that had been calling for Bobby appeared, eyes glinting dangerously.

"Cover Bobby!" he ordered as Alex raced over and used her blade to temporarily get rid of the girls. Dean gave a curt nod and Alex winced when something seemed to stop her heart for a few brief moments. Sam swore, snatching the blade from her hand and slashing over her head with it.

The girl disappeared, baring her teeth, and Alex took her blade back with a grateful look on her face. "Thanks," she gasped.

"No problem," Sam replied.

"Dean!" Bobby suddenly bellowed, tossing a bowl into the air. Dean caught it and immediately slammed the contents into the fireplace. The flames roared blue, and the ghosts suddenly disappeared, screaming as they went. Bobby, who'd been about to lose his heart to Meg, dropped to his knees, gasping for breath.

"Bobby?" Dean said worriedly as he helped the older hunter to his feet. Alex helped Sam shove the desk away, her heart racing nearly painfully.

"Everyone good?" Bobby rasped.

"Barely," Alex murmured, lining her blade up and putting it away. She shoved her sweaty hair out of her eyes, and then sighed in relief.

At last, she could relax.

Maybe get some sleep in.

...definitely get some sleep in.

* * *

Dean didn't know why he'd woken up, but he sat up anyways, immediately looking for his brother. He was relieved to discover him sleeping soundly on the couch, long legs hanging off of the edge, and he snickered before glancing over to the corner Alex had claimed.

The skinwalker had used her canine form, her possessions folded and placed neatly beside her. She'd curled up into a tight ball, her muzzle tucked under her tail and her body relaxed for the first time since he'd come back from Hell.

When he looked around a final time, a shadow crossed his vision, and he sighed heavily, recognizing who it was. Heaving himself to his feet, Dean made his way into the kitchen, and Castiel finally looked to him with calm blue eyes.

"Excellent job with the witnesses," he told Dean, and then glanced back at where Alex was. "All of you did well."

"You knew?"

"I was...made aware," Castiel admitted.

"Huh. Well, thanks a lot for the angelic assistance," Dean said bitingly, giving the angel a near vicious look for such things. "You know, Alex almost got her heart ripped right out of her chest. Twice."

"But she didn't." Castiel turned his gaze back on Dean, not at all concerned about the matter, and he scoffed.

"I thought angels were supposed to be guardians," he muttered. "Fluffy wings, halos. Not dicks."

Castiel merely told him, "Read the bible, Dean. Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier. I'm not here to perch on your shoulder. We had larger concerns."

" _Concerns_?" Dean threw his hands in the air. "There were people getting torn to shreds down here! And by the way, while all of this is going on, where the hell is your boss, huh? If there is a God?" Castiel opened his mouth to answer, but Dean continued, furious. "I'm not convinced there is one, 'cause if there's a God, what the hell is he waiting for? Genocide? monsters roaming the earth? The freaking apocalypse? When does he show up and help us - the poor bastards living in the world he created?!"

"The Lord works-"

"If you say "mysterious ways"," Dean threatened, glaring at him, "I'm going to kick your ass." Taking a deep breath to try and calm himself, he said carefully, "Bobby was right then. This is some kind of a sign of the apocalypse." Castiel gave a curt nod. "Do I want to know?"

"I sincerely doubt it, but you should." The angel tilted his head a fraction. "The rising of the witnesses is one of the sixty-six seals." Dean stared, not understanding, and he explained, "The seals are being broken by Lilith."

"Why?" Dean demanded.

"You can think of the seals as the locks on a door," Castiel described grimly, "The last one opens, and Lucifer walks free."

" _Lucifer_?" Dean looked astonished, horrified almost. He wanted to run over and shake his brother, Alex, and Bobby awake so that they could hear the insanity that he was being told. "But I thought Lucifer was just a story they told. There's no such thing."

"Only days ago, you thought there was no such thing as me," Castiel pointed out calmly. "Why do you think we're here walking among you for the first time in two thousand years?"

"To stop Lucifer," Dean realized.

"That's why we've arrived," he confirmed, and then paused. "And there's the matter of the Soldier, but that takes time that we will likely not have." He ignored the curious look he received from Dean, who shrugged it off and spoke again.

"Great job so far," he said drily. "Stellar work with the witnesses."

Castiel seemed to grow angry with the hunter at that. "We tried. There are other battles, other seals. Some we will win, others we will lose. This one we lost. Unlike humans, our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died this week. You think the armies of Heaven should follow you around, Dean? There's a much larger picture here. Show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell." His eyes narrowed threateningly. "I can throw you back in."

And then he was gone, and Dean found his eyes snapping open to stare at his brother, who was tiredly peering down from the side of the couch with exhausted eyes. Alex hadn't moved an inch, still asleep in the corner, but Sam whispered, "Dean? You good?"

Dean swallowed thickly and rested his head back, throwing an arm over his eyes. "You got no problem in believing in God and angels?"

"No, not really," Sam said, confused.

"Then what about the devil himself?"

* * *

 _Another quick chapter...:D_


	16. Metamorphosis

**| October 9, 2008 |**

Alex was jolted awake by a fairly violent gasp and harsh breathing. She was immediately reaching for the blade that she kept on her at all times, her blue eyes blearily searching for an intruder - and she stared when she realized that Dean was sitting up, heaving for air and staring at a thoughtful Castiel, who was near the end of the bed.

Yawning, Alex relaxed. "The hell is going on?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Alex," Dean muttered, surprisingly almost eager to see her. She glared suspiciously at him.

After the whole incident with the spirits, they'd agreed to drive her back to Avery's. She'd been grateful and had agreed to stop at a motel with them in the night, thanking them with a surprising seriousness. She'd hugged Bobby tightly before leaving, and told him she'd call at some point in the future.

"I couldn't stop any of it," Dean suddenly whispered, horrified. Alex narrowed her attention back to he and Castiel, frowning. What had happened that freaked Dean out this much? Nightmares again, perhaps? "She still made the deal. She still died in the nursery, didn't she?"

"Don't be too hard on yourself," the angel murmured back, face expressionless. "You couldn't have stopped it."

Dean stood, staring at him in shock, and Alex swung her long bare legs over the side of the bed. Clothed only in a flannel she'd stolen from Dean's duffelbag to piss him off one last time before she went back to Avery, she propped her hands on her hips. "What happened? Winchester?"

"He took me back in time," Dean spat, shaking with anger. "I saw...I'll tell you later."

She was just amazed he'd promised that.

"Destiny can't be changed," Castiel said quietly, suddenly shooting a knowing look at Alex. She stilled, bewildered as to why he'd direct such words to her. "All roads lead to the same destination."

"Then why the _fuck_ did you send me back?" Dean snarled furiously.

"For the truth," Castiel said honestly. "Now you know everything we know. Share the information with Alexandriana." Alex scowled viciously at the use of her full name. His gaze shifted to the empty couch, with its blankets folded carefully - Alex and Dean had been given beds, Sam offering to take the couch - and Alex scoffed knowingly. Of course Sam was gone!

"Where's Sam?" Dean said darkly.

"We know what Azazel did to your brother," Castiel said firmly. He thoughtfully tilted his head. "What we don't know is why - what his endgame is. he went to great lengths to cover that up." Dean repeated his question blankly. "Four-twenty-five Waterman," Castiel finally answered.

Dean snatched up his car keys and Alex didn't question it as she slid her leather jacket on, jaw clenched.

"Your brother is headed down a dangerous road, Dean," Castiel called as they left the motel room. "We're not sure where it leads. So stop it...or we will."

"What's going on?" Alex demanded, bewildered as Dean glowered at the empty parking spot he remembered leaving his car in. So he made his way over to another car - one he fully intended to return - and went to work on carefully breaking into it. When he had, she crawled into the passenger seat. "Dean!"

"Remember the demon who killed Sam and was the reason behind my Hell sentence?" Dean questioned as he swung into the driver's seat, the engine rumbling softly to life. "Turns out it dripped demon blood into Sammy's mouth when he was a baby. It killed my grandfather, my grandmother, and it took advantage of my mom's love for my dad." He made a sound of disgust. "Alex, Sam's got demon blood in his veins. That explains all of the psychic stuff we dealt with a few years ago - used to see flashes of the future."

"I don't see how that changes much, but sure." Alex could feel the anger radiating off of the eldest Winchester, and guessed it was more so because Sam had left again without telling them where he was going. "Dean, he's an idiot, I know. Believe me. I'm aware of how moronic that bloody fool is. But it doesn't change the fact that he's Sam Winchester."

Dean didn't answer; instead, he merely hit the gas pedal.

* * *

When they arrived at their location, Alex waved for him to follow her. She took the lead this time, and he trusted her enough to do as she asked. She followed her nose until they reached a window to the building she knew Sam to be in. She peeked in, Dean right beside her, and her gaze hardened at the sight.

There was a man, tied to a chair that rested in the center of a devil's trap. Sam stood in front of him, his gaze harsh, and a woman neither of them recognized stood nearby. "Where's Lilith?" Sam said, and Alex's sharp hearing caught it.

Alex began to repeat everything that they said within the room so Dean could know what was being said, and he scowled.

"Kiss my ass," the demon sneered.

Sam only grinned mockingly. "I'd watch myself if I were you."

"Why?" the demon retorted, looking unafraid. "Because you're Sam Winchester? Mr. Big Hero, slutting around with some demon...yeah. Some hero." Sam snarled at him to shut up, but he didn't listen. "Tell me about those months without your brother," it challenged, and Alex listened closely. "About all of the things you and this demon bitch do in the dark."

Alex made a gagging sound, disgusted. Dean looked just as disgusted as she felt. "The hell is he doing with her?"

"I don't know," she said softly in response, "But I'd put my bloody money on he and her being together when he disappeared and let my face get cut up."

Dean muttered his agreement.

All of a sudden, Sam scowled. He lifted a hand, and Sam took a deep breath before closing his eyes. Smoke began to leak from the man's mouth, snaking towards the earth, where it burned through the floor. There was a moment afterwards, as he lowered his hand, where he exchanged a grin with the demon woman.

"What the bloody hell?!" Alex snarled, shocked.

Dean shook his head, storming away from the window, and she slunk after him, bewildered. What was going _on_?!

Without a word, Dean threw open the doors, and Sam stopped dead in his tracks, having been on his way to leave. "So," he said tightly, grinning viciously at his younger brother. "Anything you want to tell us Sam?"

" _Us_?" Sam questioned, looking bewildered as the woman came to stand beside him. Alex ducked into view, icy eyes narrowed suspiciously. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of sulphur.

"Us," she hummed, hands on her hips. "Is _this_ why I currently can't get a guy to look at my face? Because you've been faffing around with demons?" Dean paused, glancing at her, and she shrugged. "Went to a bar. Soon as they saw the scar, they came up with pathetic excuses and left me."

"Hold on, okay?" Sam finally managed to say, "Let me explain-"

"Really? How are you going to explain this?" Dean demanded, attention back on Sam. "Why don't you start with who she is and what the hell she's doing here." He glared pointedly at the woman, who wiggled her fingers in greeting, smiling.

"Good to see you again Dean." She glanced at Alex. "And you."

Alex bristled. "Ruby?" Dean rasped, startled, and then looked to Sam. "Is that Ruby?"

Sam didn't answer, and Dean's gaze turned back on Ruby. She lost the smile, staring into his furious green eyes - and then gasped when she was suddenly grabbed by the collar of the jacket she wore and shoved against a wall. A familiar demon knife was against her throat in an instant, but Sam dove over to stop him.

"Stop!" Sam cried, struggling to yank it out of Dean's hand. After a brief struggle in which Alex didn't know what to do, Ruby switched places and slammed him into the wall instead. "Ruby!" Sam snapped, "Don't!"

There was a few brief moments before she released Dean, who glared at her. Alex shifted uneasily as he snarled, "Well, aren't you an obedient little bitch?"

She merely curled a lip and then gave Dean a look. She turned and scampered over to the man they'd tied to a chair, and Dean watched intently as she pulled his arm over her shoulder after untying him.

Alex stepped into her path when she moved towards the door, her blade showing up at her arm and her gaze deadly. "Where the bloody hell do you think you're going?"

"The ER," Ruby said in a deadpanned voice. She rolled her eyes, scowling. "Unless you two want to go a round first, 'cause I'm up for that." She shoved past, disappearing out of the doors with the man, and Dean turned a look on Sam.

"Dean!" Sam began to protest, but without another word, Dean turned and walked right out of the doors he'd come in through. Alex hesitated, giving Sam a nearly sympathetic look before following suit.

Sam wasn't a bad person; this wasn't him. This wasn't the man she'd come to know.

And it killed her to admit that that man _might_ be gone.

* * *

The next morning found Sam sitting at the table in the motel room, reading a book. Alex was on the bed, waiting impatiently for the eldest of the two Winchesters to come back so that they could get back on the road to taking her back to Avery's.

She'd talked to the other woman for a short while upon waking up - she knew Avery was up at five every morning - and Avery had been sympathetic. She'd reassured her that she was fine, and that Alex could take as long as she wanted before coming home - even if it meant months because she got caught up in the hunter lifestyle.

Avery had been fiercely told that Alex wanted to go back as soon as she could. Because she was tired of it all.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened and Dean strode in. Not looking at Sam, he started packing things into a bag he hauled onto the bed Alex sat on, telling her firmly, "Get your stuff, we're heading out."

"Dean," Sam said hesitantly, "What are you doing?"

Dean ignored him and continued speaking to Alex, who hopped off of the bed with a worried look. "Can't bee too far from Cheyenne, right? You wanna head there or have you chatted with your brother recently?"

"Cheyenne, please," she said nervously, not bothering with the sarcastic comments as she went to retrieve her few possessions.

"Dean-"

Dean gave a sarcastic grin as Alex hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, not wanting to get between the two Winchesters as they fought. "You don't need us, you've got _Ruby_. Go fight demons with her."

Dean shouldered his bag, and then started for the door, but Sam dove to stand in between it and him. Seeing what was coming as Sam began to protest, Alex stayed back.

A moment later, Dean's fist had connected with Sam's jaw, and Sam yelped, jerking back. A second later, he turned back to his brother, clutching the spot. "Satisfied?" This earned him another punch on the other side of the jaw, and Dean dropped his bag as Sam licked his now bloody lip. "Guess not."

"Do you even know how far off the reservation you've gone, Sam?" Dean snarled. "How far from normal? From human?" He waved at Alex, frustrated. "She's a friggin' _skinwalker_ , and she doesn't even do what you've done!"

"Oi, leave me out of this Winchester," Alex muttered.

"I'm just exorcising demons!"

"With your _mind_!" Dean shouted furiously. He took a deep breath to calm himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What else can you do?"

"I can send them back to Hell," Sam began, "It only works with demons, and that's - Dean!" Dean had grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him back against a wall. Alex would have flattened her ears had she been in canine form, not used to seeing Dean so furious with the younger Winchester. "I told you, that's it!"

"And I have every reason in the world to believe that," Dean said bitterly, releasing him.

"Is this," Alex suddenly cut in, her voice shaking. "The reason you were running around all summer? Leaving me to deal with monsters that _you_ pissed off?" Sam's guilty expression was enough and she smiled tightly, not at all amused. It only made the guilt even worse when he saw that one side of her face didn't move like the other did, giving her a permanent grimace.

"I'm sorry, Dean, Alex," Sam said hesitantly, "I really am, I swear, but try to see the other side here."

"What other side?" Dean demanded.

"I'm pulling demons out of innocent people," Sam said, as if it was something to be proud of.

"Use the knife!" Dean snarled, "Or Alex's blade! Both work perfectly fine!"

"It kills the victim!" Sam shouted back. He took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself, pressing his lips together in frustration. "What I do? Most of them survive, Dean! I've saved more people in the last five months than we save in a freaking _year_!"

Alex decided to try and make an input now, putting her bag on the bed and sliding over with a gentle expression. She knew Sam had good intentions, but that didn't make what he was doing any less worse. "Sam," she said softly, "This isn't smart. It'll only get darker and darker, and God knows where it ends."

Sam clenched his jaw, jutting out his chin stubbornly. "I won't let it get too far."

Dean shook his head, grabbing a lamp from the nearest nightstand and throwing it against the closest wall. "It's already gone too far, Sam!" he bellowed. "If I didn't know you...I'd be _hunting_ you!"

Hurt flashed across Sam's face, and he flinched, eyes glazed over with unshed tears. Slowly, he nodded, looking at his feet like an upset child that had just been scolded by his parent. "You were gone," he rasped, "I was here, and I had to keep on fighting without you... What I'm doing? It works."

It was Alex's turn to look hurt. "Sam Winchester," she growled, "I was right there. Bobby and I were suffering just as badly as you were and we didn't go running off to demons. I would have helped you had you only asked, you tosser."

"It wasn't the same," he began, and the look of pure rage that flashed across her face made him think better of what he'd been about to say. "I mean, yeah, you were there, but it wasn't...you weren't Dean."

"No," Alex said, smiling bitterly, "I'm just some stranger that isn't welcome. And you twats wonder why I want to go back to Avery's."

Both Winchester brothers made a face, Sam's guilty and Dean's even more so.

Because hadn't she helped where one couldn't?

"If it's so terrific, Sam," Dean said darkly, "Then why'd you lie to me about it? To her? Why did an _angel_ tell me to stop you?"

Sam's gaze snapped up at that. "What?"

Even Alex looked a little curious about that as Dean went off on a rant. "Cas said that if I don't stop you, he will. See, Sam? That means that _God_ doesn't want you to do this. So, are you just gonna stand there and keep telling us that everything is all good?"

There was silence for a few moments, and then the quiet was broken by the ringing of a phone. Dean snorted, and Sam grimaced before answering it as Alex shifted uneasily. "Hello? Hey, Travis. Yeah, hey. Uh...it's good to hear your voice, too. Look, it's not really a good time right now. It's-" He cut off, frowning. "Well, just give me the details, and... Carthage, Missouri, got it." Sam scurried over to a notepad that rested on the motel room's table and wrote something down. "Looking for Jack Montgomery." Alex perked up at the sound of her last name, curious. "See ya there."

"We've got someone to stalk," Sam announced. "Travis said it was important." He glanced at Alex. "Do you want to go back, or..."

"I'll stick with you bloody freaks," she said, throwing her hands in the air. "Jeez, I give up. Guess I'm back to hunting for the time being 'cause God forbid I try to abandon you wankers!"

Dean snorted. "I can see you have yet to be Americanized."

This was replied to by Alex hurling something at his head, making the eldest Winchester crack a grin and duck to avoid it.

* * *

"I can't believe it...Mom? A hunter?"

The trio of hunters were in the Impala, and Alex admitted to herself in her head that she had somewhat missed this. Even if the time was now stained and tainted with the darkness of whatever Sam was doing. She'd even been granted the passenger seat - by Dean himself.

Sam had looked hurt, but had said nothing when he climbed into the back seat.

Dean had explained what Castiel had put him through, and Alex found herself stunned. Couldn't they have changed fate though? Surely if she was sent back in time to the day her parents were murdered, she could have put a halt to it...to everything...

"I wouldn't have believed it either if I hadn't seen it myself," Dean agreed. He looked wistful, the sharp-eyed skinwalker noticed. His eyes were on the road, yet full of memories. "That woman could kick some ass...she almost took me down."

"Not hard," Alex muttered, earning a mocking glare from him.

"How'd she look?" Sam demanded. "Was she happy?"

"Yeah, she was awesome." Dean's gaze darkened suddenly. "Funny...smart...full of hope...Dad, too. Until you know what."

Sam sighed, and Alex twisted in her seat to look at him. She'd been with the younger brother for long enough that she knew when his thoughts weren't exactly pleasant. Catching her eye, Sam explained, "It's just...our parents. And now we find out about our grandparent, too? Our whole family...murdered. And for what? So Yellow-Eyes could get in my nursery and bleed in my mouth?"

Silence.

More silence that made Alex look back to Dean, who clenched his jaw and gritted out finally, "Sam. I never said anything about demon blood." Sam clamped his mouth shut, guilt flashing across his face. "You knew about that?"

Sam looked out the window of the car, refusing to meet Dean's gaze in the mirror that Dean was lookin in. "Yeah...for about a year."

Alex sputtered, whipping around so fast her hair caught her eye. She cursed and rubbed the watery orb, and then snarled, " A whole bloody year?!"

"I should have told you," Sam said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"You've been saying that a lot lately," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. Alex remained quiet, not wanting to interfere in the conversation that was beginning to take place. "But whatever. You don't want to tell me, you don't have to. It's fine. Not like I was in Hell or anything."

"Dean-" Sam tried to catch his attention, but Dean ignored him, focusing the road. Sam turned to Alex, and she met his gaze for a few moments, her icy eyes showing the disappointment she felt towards him before she looked out the window and he sighed irritably, sitting back.

"Whatever."

* * *

"Are you sure that's him?" Alex demanded as Dean looked out the window of the Impala towards the house they were currently spying on. He held a pair of binoculars to his eyes, watching intently.

"Only Jack Montgomery in town," Sam replied. "Travis said to keep an eye out for weird things."

"Weird?" Dean snorted. "I've seen big weird, little weird, weird with crazy on top, but this guy's boring as hell."

"Not very boring there, I'd think," Alex mused, making Dean glare at her. She snatched the binoculars out of his hands and took a peek herself. "Seriously though, there's nothing-"

She cut off, jaw dropping. "Oh, my God," she whispered in horror.

Jack Montgomery was carelessly shoving his mouth full of raw meat that he'd pulled out of the fridge, devouring it like it was candy.

Even skinwalkers didn't do that.

Dean snatched the binoculars back to take a look and made a sound of disgust as Sam lowered his binoculars to muse, "I'd say that counts as weird."

* * *

Alex wrinkled her nose as she followed the boys into the motel room, her blue eyes blazing. "I told you bloody morons, someone's _in_ there."

"And we won't find out what's up until we go in ourselves," Dean said, tucking his gun into the waist of his jeans. He fixed his shirt and jacket, covering it up, and then slid past her to head towards the room. She touched her wrist, following he and Sam with a thoughtful look.

Fine. Don't listen to the skinwalker.

She hoped this blew up in their faces.

They paused in the doorway, and then Sam smiled, greeting, "Travis!"

Alex peeked over Dean's shoulder, not even trying to look over Sam's. He was way too tall to even attempt such a thing. Her gaze zeroed in on a man sitting by the motel room's table, his hand supporting a beer, which he set down. She watched as the trio of men greeted each other eagerly before Travis turned to Alex, studying her curiously with dark eyes. "So who's this?"

Rather than letting them introduce her - she didn't want anyone else knowing she was a skinwalker - Alex stepped forward and shook his offered hand, saying in her most charming tone and drawing up her accent, "Pleasure to meet you, sir, I am Alex Montgomery. And in no way am I related to Jack Montgomery."

The alarm that had appeared disappeared, and Travis smiled kindly at her. "Hey there, Alex. Nice to meet you. Alright, sorry I got here a bit late. He dropped back down into his seat after making his way over to the table, grabbing his beer. "Thanks for helping out an old man, I'm a little...shorthanded." He laughed, gesturing to his other arm, which was covered in a cast.

 _Broken_ , Alex thoughtfully mused.

"So you track him down?" Travis asked, sipping at his beer as Sam and Dean slid into seats on either side of him. Alex went to dig in the fridge for her own beer as Sam told him they had. "And?"

"He had a hell of a case of the munchies," Dean said with a snort. "Topped off with a burger. Which he forgot to cook."

"Ugh," Alex murmured as she came to stand at the table, handing a beer to Sam and Dean each. Sam set his aside, but Dean shot her a look and simply chugged his. Alex took a drink of her own, wishing for some good wine from her home country.

"That's him alright," Travis sighed. "Boys...and girl, we got a rougarou on our hands."

"A rougarou?" Dean said bluntly, glancing at Sam, who shrugged. "Sounds made up."

"They're mean, nasty little sons of bitches," Travis explained. "Rotted teeth, wormy skin, the works."

Alex wrinkled her nose, imagining the stench that must come off of such creatures. "The bloke wasn't like that though...he looked like your average man."

"He'll turn ugly soon enough." Travis didn't seem too concerned about the matter. Alex admitted that it concerned her a little. "They start out human, for all intents and purposes."

"So...they go through some kind of metamorphosis?" Sam asked. His dark eyes were thoughtful as he fumbled with his fingers, and he glanced up when Travis confirmed his words.

"Yep. Like a maggot turning into a bull fly. But most of all...they're hungry." The older hunter's eyes darkened.

"Hungry for what?" Dean demanded.

"At first, for everything, but then for long pig."

Shock flashed across Dean's face, though Sam didn't show as much concern about the matter, as if he was used to such horrors. Alex, however, found herself confused. "The bloody hell is that?"

"Human flesh," Dean told her and she sputtered, choking on the beer she'd sipped at. Disgusted, she curled her lip back and growled before she could help herself, earning a startled look from Travis. Covering the sound up with a cough, she muttered something that the others didn't hear.

"The hunger grows in," Travis explained, shooting curious looks at the red-blonde skinwalker. "Until they can't fight it. They got to take themselves one big, juicy chomp, and then it happens. They transform completely and fast." He shook his head with a small sigh. "One bite. That's all it takes. Eyes, teeth, skin...all of it. Turns. No going back either. They feed once, they're a monster forever, and our man Jack's headed there on a bullet train."

Curious, Alex spoke again, leaning on the table with a frown. "How'd you find him, Mr. Travis?"

Looking amused with her politeness, he told her, "Let's just say it runs in his family. Killed his daddy back in '78. Bastard mangled eight bodies before I put him down. Used to be a dentist, with a cadiallc, trophy wife. Pregnant one. Put the boy up for adoption. By the time I figured it out, he was long gone, lost in the system."

"You...couldn't find someone?" Sam said incredulously, unable to believe such a thing.

Travis pressed his lips together and responded quietly. "I'm not sure I wanted to, to be honest...I don't like the idea of hunting down a kid. Don't think I'd have the heart. No. I wanted to wait, and make damn sure had the right man. Now...I do."

"So how do we kill them?" Alex asked after a while, thoughtful. Her blade wouldn't be usable this time, not with a strange hunter around. Nor would her senses...damn this hunt. It was going to be a rough one for Alex, who was used to using such things.

Sam had stepped out a while back, a few hours ago even, while they discussed things and what might be the best way to go around dealing with the job they found themselves dealing with.

"The only way I found to kill these bastards." Travis reached beneath the table and pulled what looked like a small fire extinguisher onto the table, carefully setting it down with a smirk. "Deep-fry 'em."

"Well that's gonna be...fun," Alex said in a strangled voice, her eyes wide. She didn't want to know what Travis' idea of killing skinwalkers was...she wasn't too fond of the man before her. Then again, she wasn't fond of any other hunter, really, they all wanted her dead.

She was growing fonder of the Winchesters though. They were pretty okay.

Dean, who was nodding to himself, asked, "So that what you did to Jack's dad?"

"Yep."

* * *

"Not wasting any time, are you?" Sam had ducked inside and eyed the gas cans with distaste. He had muttered his disapproval about the possibility of accidentally dragging in the man's wife, and how he didn't think it was right that they'd be turning her into a widow over something her husband couldn't control. "Anyways, I did a little homework-"

"Is that where you were," Dean said without looking at him, as if he didn't believe him. Sam shot him a scowl for the suggestion, and Alex rolled her eyes.

"I've been checking out the lore on rougarous," Sam continued, irritated now.

"What?" Travis challenged. "My thirty plus years of experience not good enough for you?"

"What?" Sam looked startled, and then said hastily. "No! I just...I wanted to be prepared. I mean, not that you didn't-"

"Sam loves research," Alex cut in, huffing. She was tired of this bickering. "Can we get to the point, Sam?"

"Look," Sam muttered, "Everything you said checked out, of course, but uh... I found a couple of interesting stories about people who have the gene or whatever." His dark eyes lit up with excitement. "They start to turn, but they never take that final step. If they never eat human flesh, they don't transform fully."

"So what?" Dean huffed. "Go vegan and stay human?"

"Basically," Sam agreed, "Or, in this case, if you eat a lot of raw meat, just not long pig."

"Good on you for the due diligence Sam," Travis said as he climbed to his feet, shaking his head. "But those are fairy tales. Just fake stories that people tell themselves to feel better about what they are."

Alex bit back a growl of irritation.

Stories were often times the truth.

Look at the goddamn angels that had popped up out of nowhere.

"Fact is," Travis said, heading over to get another beer. "Every rougoarou I ever saw or heard of took that bite."

"Okay, well," Sam said, frowning as he dropped to sit on the bed in the motel room. "That doesn't mean that Jack will, right?"

Dean watched Sam closely as Travis retorted, "So what do we do? Sit and wait for a body count?"

"No, we talk to him," Sam muttered. "Explain what's happening. That way he can fight it."

"Are you kidding me?" Travis looked amazed, as if he was utterly bewildered by this determination to save the rougarou. "You ever been really hungry?" Dean glanced over and Alex shifted uneasily. It wasn't easy living as a hunter, after all. "I mean, unable to eat in days hungry? Like you'd walk away if somebody slapped a big, juicy sirloin in front of you."

Dean admitted silently that he wouldn't, and then looked over to Alex, who pressed her lips together, saying nothing. There had been a time when she'd thought she'd starve. She was more than aware of it. "That's what we are to him now, Sam, meat on legs. I'm sorry. I'm sure he's a stand-up guy, but it's base instinct. Everything's gotta eat. You think he's gonna be able to stop himself?"

"I don't know," Sam admitted. "But we're not gonna kill him unless he does something to get killed for."

Dean's gaze flickered over to his brother, and Sam left the room a moment later. Travis glanced at the eldest Winchester, and then to Alex. "What's up with him?"

"Don't get me started," was all Dean said, and Alex shrugged, going to get something to eat out of the fridge.

* * *

"Alright," Dean said as the two Winchesters talked. He was driving, of course, his green eyes thoughtfully watching the road. Sam sat in the passenger seat, paying attention, and neither were surprised that Alex had - with care - sprawled out in the back seat in her canine form, not feeling like communicating for whatever reason.

Dean thought it might have had to do with a scathing remark about skinwalkers, shapeshifters, and werewolves that Travis had made.

"So we're gonna go have a little chat with Jack Montgomery, which...you know, I'm down for." Sam cast him a curious look as he spoke, and Dean returned the gaze with a serious one, his lips pressed together. "But I want to make sure that if push comes, you're gonna shove."

"Meaning...?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Odds are we're gonna have to fry this poor bastard."

"This poor bastard," Sam retorted, "Has a name and a wife."

Alex lifted her head, her jaws parting in a tongue-curling yawn. Her ears flicked and her icy eyes gave Dean a pointed look when he glanced back in the mirror at her. It was like with her. But she agreed with Dean at the same time, as at least she didn't crave human flesh.

"We're probably gonna make her a widow," Dean replied carefully, earning a glare from Sam. "I mean, you heard Travis, Sam. He's gonna turn; they always do."

"Maybe he won't." Sam's gaze flashed with determination as he looked out the windshield. "Maybe he can fight it off."

Alex made a soft woof, making Dean snicker.

"If you're gonna talk, puppy, use actual words," he told her, and she bared her teeth at him in response before resting her head on carefully crossed paws. "Anyways, you sure your emotions aren't getting in the way? I mean, you know, nice dude. But he's got something evil inside. Something in his blood. Maybe you can relate."

Alex peeked an eye open, though it came to rest on the enraged looking Sam now. She didn't exactly approve of what Dean had said. Dean's attitude about all of it was getting on her nerves, actually.

And Sam seemed to feel the same.

"Stop the car," he gritted out. "Or I will."

Dean blinked, but pulled the car over. Before it had even stopped, Sam threw the door open and climbed out. Alex scampered over the seat and out of Deans when he ducked out as well, and he glared at her warningly for doing such a thing before closing the door.

Alex sniffed the air to make sure that everything was okay before turning her icy eyes on the brothers, worried.

"You want to know why I've been lying to you, Dean?" Sam seethed, throwing his hands in the air. "Because of crap like this. The way you talk, the way you look at me like I'm a freak!" Furious, the younger brother began to pace, and Alex's eyes followed his every step. "You know, or even worse, like I'm an idiot, like I don't know the difference between right and wrong!"

Alex groaned and went to go fetch her clothes at that point, not trusting them to keep the conversation civilized.

Dean looked to his feet for a few moments, and Sam cast him a look when he began to speak, voice a tad bit angry. "Do you really know the difference, Sam?" he finally asked quietly, voice soft yet just as angry as Sam's. "I mean, you've been strolling down a dark road lately."

"You have no idea what I'm going through!" Sam barked, "None, Dean!"

Alex cut in then, still buttoning a shirt that she'd snatched out of a bag. Her feet were bare, her hair a tangled mess, but she didn't seem to notice. "Enlighten us, Sam," she said quietly. "Because I'm pretty sure I have a good idea, you bloody moron."

Sam paused for a moment, as if contemplating that, and then said in a distressed tone, "I've got demon blood in me! A...a _disease_ , pumping through my veins, and I can't ever rip it out or scrub it clean!"

"Yep, sounds pretty similar to what you've got goin' on," Dean said, glancing to Alex with a look in his eyes she didn't like. She glared, not appreciating how he made it worse when he added, "Alex is a skinwalker, same kinda deal going on, Sam, and you don't see her walking around with demonic bitches!"

"I'm a whole new level of freak!" he cried. "It's not like being a skinwalker, or being turned into...into a vampire! I'm just...trying to take this...this _curse_ , and make something good out of it! Because I have to." He gave them a pleading look, trying to explain his feelings through his eyes, but Dean just shook his head and turned away.

"Let's go talk to the guy," Dean muttered.

Sam gave a hysterical laugh, and Alex rolled her eyes before planting her hands on her hips and saying quietly to Sam as Dean headed back for the Impala, "Sam, look." She spoke gently, not trying to force her opinion on him. "I get it. More than you think I do. It's not easy trying to prove you want to do good when people usually do so much bad with what you've been given. I'm still proving to you two, even nearly a year after teaming up, that I'm not some random skinwalker that's playing hunter. But walking with demons...Sam," she said, looking him in the eye and searching his gaze with a heartbroken look that had him looking away guiltily. "Sam, walking with demons is _not_ the way to do this!"

He scowled. "What do you know? Ruby's not like the others-"

"How do you know that for sure?" Alex pointed out gently. "As far as we've seen, there's never been a bloody good demon. Plenty of supernatural creatures that were once humans like me try their best to be normal, but I've never heard of a demon doing it."

He reluctantly agreed, and she smiled gently, touching his shoulder and pushing him towards the car. "Speed it up, you bloody twat," she said affectionately, "Stop faffing around, we have work to do."

* * *

"This isn't right, Travis," Alex muttered later that night. Her blue eyes were a mixture of anger, concern, and downright irritation. When Sam and Dean had tried to explain what he was to him, he'd ignored them. He'd told them to leave and he'd refused to believe what they said, resulting in what the Winchesters apparently did best: watching.

She'd been invited to go with them, of course.

But Alex had decided against it, claiming she wanted to make sure Travis was doing okay. And she did; the hunter wasn't at the top of his game with a messed up arm. She also wanted to make sure that his attitude didn't pull in unnecessary involvements.

She'd failed on that end. Big time.

She'd left them at noon, heading back on her own two feet in her own clothes, bidding them a temporary farewell and promising that she'd call if anything strange happened, but Travis had explained that he didn't trust them to help in this and had asked her not to call them about what they were doing.

Slightly scared of him, nowhere near as brave as she'd been before what had happened only a few weeks before, when she'd still been with Avery, she'd done as he'd asked.

As Travis launched into a reason on why this needed to be done, Alex murmured apologies to the terrified woman that she was tying to a chair. Travis was strange, and she was anxious that he somehow knew that she wasn't entirely human.

So she did as he instructed on the condition that the wife remain unharmed.

"What's your name, dear?" Alex asked, her accent sharp in her worry, yet voice kind. She hated including people who weren't involved.

"M-Michelle," she said shakily, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Please-"

"Michelle!" a voice suddenly called, and Travis yanked a gag into her mouth before grabbing a cloth that smelled of chloroform. Alex could smell it from where she stood, her hand squeezing Michelle's shoulder apologetically. She hated this, but she didn't trust Travis! "I'm home!"

"I'm sorry," Alex murmured into her ear as Travis slunk into hiding. She dug her hand in her pocket as she backed away quickly, worried now. Where were the Winchesters?! Surely they should have come by now if Jack was home?!

"Hey, babe! Are you here?"

Alex watched Jack appear, ducking into the living room. His gaze locked on his trapped wife, and he froze. "Michelle!?"

Travis lunged from behind and slapped the chloroform over his mouth. Within seconds, Jack was unconscious, and Alex said with a disgusted tone, "This is wrong, Travis. Incredibly wrong."

"You're not from here, you don't get it," he muttered back as he set to work on handcuffing Jack to a support beam. "If you can't do something like this, I don't know how you can even consider yourself a true hunter, hon."

Alex curled a lip. "Don't you dare say such a thing. I've been a hunter since I first figured out what it was." She tugged her phone out of her pocket at last, sending a fast text to Sam and demanding to know where he and Dean were. No response came fast enough, however, and she hid the phone behind her back when Travis straightened, brushing his hands off.

"Should wake up soon," he muttered, searching for the weapons he'd brought. Alex let her own blade ripple into existence, the weapon comforting.

Her phone vibrated and she checked it. They were on their way apparently, but how fast were they trying to move? When would they get there? They wouldn't be fast enough at this rate-"

"Damn," Travis cursed when Jack began to stir a few moments later, "Should have been out for way longer..."

Alex glared at him and stepped over to Michelle's side, her blue eyes sparkling anxiously. Michelle whimpered.

Jack murmured his wife's name as he came to, and then looked up with a pained look, not exactly pleased to have been drugged. Travis stepped forward and when Jack saw him, his face paled, his eyes darting to Alex before to his frightened wife. "Okay, we're gonna stay calm," he decided quietly. "We'll give them anything they want-"

Travis pressed his lips together, clearly not pleased that he thought they'd let him go in peace. He should have known after the Winchester's visit, what this was about, but...

"Anything," Jack said fiercely. "Just take it and go...please."

"I'm sorry about this, Jack," Travis mused, "I truly am. It's not the way I wanted to go." He gestured to Alex, who rolled her eyes, regretting ever accompanying the other hunter. Growling under her breath, she untied Michelle's gag, murmuring an apology in her ear.

"Who are you?" Jack barked, glaring between them. "Both of you?"

"I especially don't like this," Alex offered. "This bloke dragged me into it."

"Alex!" Travis hissed. "Shush!"

She only bristled, glaring furiously back at him as he told Jack, "You've already met some friends of ours. Two brothers?"

Shock fluttered across Jack's face as he said, "But...they said that if I..." His gaze darted to shaking wife, and Michelle looked back with a pale face. "Look, I haven't hurt anyone-"

"I know," Alex began to soothe, but Travis cut her off with a warning look. "Not yet, but you would've. They always do...look, I'm trying to do you a favor, son."

"You're being a bloody twat," Alex told him.

"Jack," Michelle pleaded, "What's he talking about?"

"Tell her," Travis ordered, eyes studying them with care. "Tell her the truth. Your family deserves to know, they always do." Jack shook his head, pleading that they let her go, that his wife wasn't a part of this, and Alex growled again.

She was with him on this.

Michelle wasn't a part of this. She could understand killing a potential threat that they were certain of, but to harm an innocent bystander-

"I really do apologize," Travis said heavily, "But she _is._ "

"What?" Alex snipped, glaring at him. "No, she's not."

"Michelle," Travis said, crouching beside her. She began to cry again, her eyes glittering with tears as she looked at her husband. "Why don't you tell them what you told me when we first got here?"

What felt like a stone filled Alex's belly when Michelle whispered, her voice cracking, "I...I told them not to hurt me...because...I-I'm pregnant."

Alex understood immediately, a rumbling growl in her throat. He wasn't willing to let Michelle go because of the baby within her, and it killed the skinwalker to admit that the baby wasn't something that should be living. Not because it didn't have the possibility of becoming like she had and refusing to fall to instinct, but because Travis didn't want to take the chance.

"Now you see the mess we're in?" Travis said sharply to Alex, glaring at her. "I can't make the mistake I made the first time all over again. I won't be around in thirty years, and you guys aren't gonna be willing to do it. This has to end now. I'd give anything not to have to do this."

She did believe him in that.

 _No one_ willingly joined the hunting community.

 _Where's the Winchesters?!_ she thought as Travis went for the gas cans he'd brought. He went to work with ease, his gaze thoughtfully studying his weapons as he did what he had to do. Michelle became desperate, head snapping pleadingly to Alex as she rasped, "Please!"

Jack shook the cuffs, looking desperately to Michelle, and Alex made a split second decision as Travis began to pour gas out on the floor, her blue eyes blazing. "Travis," she ordered, "Stop-"

"Don't think I didn't notice the little instincts of yours," Travis warned as he worked. "You're not human either, but since the boys like you, I'm not going to make you sit here and roast with them."

 _...I think he's insane,_ Alex realized distantly.

"Oh, God," Michelle sobbed, dropping her head, and Jack pleaded for Travis to stop, to kill him, but not his wife.

Alex clenched her jaw, her hands shaking as she tried to figure out what to do. This kind of situation wasn't one she ever remembered being in. She glanced at her phone, but there was nothing, no response from the Winchesters other than a text from Dean saying that they were on their way.

They weren't going to make it here fast enough.

"Jack!" Michelle suddenly screamed and Alex's head and eyse snapped up, filling with shock when Jack suddenly yanked free and lunged for Travis. Making a last second decision, Alex knelt and ripped the ropes from Michelle's wrists, shoving her behind her when she'd freed her. "Stay close to me," Alex ordered, her voice gentle as Travis screamed. "I'll protect you, Mrs. Montgomery."

"Oh, God," Michelle repeated as Jack somehow pinned Travis to the ground, a vicious look in his eyes. Alex backed her up to a wall near the door. She would protect Michelle with her life, she decided. Blood filled her nose, and Michelle gasped behind her as Jack tore the shirt away from Travis' shoulder and neck and simply stared before suddenly lunging and biting into the flesh.

Alex's face paled.

"Bollucks," she whispered.

Looks like he'd chosen to take the final bite.

Jack tore into Travis eagerly, face morphing into something hideous as he chowed down. Suddenly, his head whipped around in their direction and Alex tensed when he began to stagger over. "Michelle," he began, but she gave a sob.

"Stay away from me!" she screamed, turning behind Alex and darting for the door.

Jack moved after her, but she had already slipped outside, and when Alex went to scamper after her, he whirled on her with a snarl. "Don't move!" he barked, and Alex held her hands up in surrender, swallowing thickly. He licked some of the blood away from his lips, and Alex said nothing, her nostrils flared and her body trembling, ready to shift forms and book it if that's what it took.

Breathing heavily, mournful, Jack suddenly turned back towards Travis' body. "Don't move," he hissed to Alex as he stumbled over, latching his fingers into what was left of Travis' shirt. He began to drag him back, away from her. "Or I'll kill you."

At least the Winchesters would soon be there.

Suddenly, just as Alex had begun to edge for the door, Jack came storming back, and without hesitation, grabbed Alex by the throat, slamming her to the ground. She lashed out with her blade instinctively, catching his cheek, and with shock, she realized that he'd overpowered her. A skinwalker!

"It's your fault," he sobbed, tightening his grip. She choked, darkness ebbing in on her vision until she saw nothing. He only sobbed again, grabbing the suddenly unconscious woman by a wrist and dragging her int he direction he'd taken Travis, his face still stained with blood.

* * *

"I guess we know where they are now," Dean commented snidely as he and Sam climbed out of the Impala, flamethrowers tucked safely under their arms. His green eyes were sharp.

"That stupid son of a bitch," Sam muttered. "And Alex; what the hell was she thinking?"

Dean paused, glancing over at him. "I don't know," he admitted, "She seemed pretty worried in that text, right?"

"Yeah," Sam muttered. They ducked into the front of the house with care when they reached it, and Sam peeked into the living room with an intent look. He paused when he saw a pool of blood and gestured for his brother to look. Dean narrowed his eyes and peered into the living room, following the blood trail he could see to behind the couch.

Sam's eyes locked on something in the middle of the floor. He carefully made his way over to where it rested on the floor and Dean kept close, looking disgusted when they reached the flesh. "Oh, God, think that's Travis?" he muttered, not daring to suggest it was Alex after she'd just given up on leaving the hunting life.

"What's left of him," Sam muttered, and then looked around with sharp eyes. "Guess you were right about Jack."

Dean didn't get the chance to respond before he was suddenly attacked from behind. Sam shouted his name in a panic, shocked, and Jack knocked Dean out with a quick blow to the head, slamming him down on a coffee table that shattered beneath him.

Sam spun around, fully intending to use the flamethrower he'd brought, but Jack lunged at him before he could use it, knocking them both to the floor. Sam swore, reaching for the weapon, but Jack only grinned and muttered, "Nighty-night!" before slamming it into his face.

* * *

"Sam!"

 _Crack!_

Sam yelped, waking with a start and a flash of pain in his cheek. Piercing blue eyes stared back into his gaze. His own eyes snapped wide as he recognized Alex, who supported nasty bruising on her throat. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse, and there was a haunted look in the back of her gaze. "Good to see you awake, you bloody moron."

"Alex," he muttered, and then asked, "Dean?"

"Dean can't come to the phone right now."

Both of them tensed in surprise, and then Alex turned her gaze on the closet doors, bristling. Furious, Sam reached for the door, and then tried to open it. He scowled when he realized they'd been locked in. Slamming his hand against the door, he shouted, "Jack! If you hurt him, I swear to God-"

"Calm down," Jack snarled back. His voice was shaking, mournful. "Your brother's alive."

Alex sighed softly in relief. Her breath came heavily, rasping in her throat as Jack told them he wouldn't be if they didn't calm down.

"Alright, Jack, listen," Sam began calmly, his eyes flashing desperately. "Open the door. We can figure this out, okay?"

He laughed at that, as if amused. "We'll have ourselves a little brainstorming session? I don't think so! Not after what your little friend in there did. Well, her and the other one."

"What?" Sam glanced curiously at Alex, who just shook her head and dropped to sit on the ground, her head in her hands. "What are you talking about?"

"You send your friends here," Jack said, voice choked. "He tried to burn my wife alive, and she didn't do anything about it."

"What?" Sam frowned at Alex as he searched his pockets, bewildered. "Why?"

"They didn't say," Jack muttered, and Alex looked shocked. She glanced at the door, thoughtful. Jack seemed to somewhat recognize that she wasn't fond of what Travis had been planning. But she figured that the information could be said at a later time. Her eyes locked onto a coat hanger, and Alex suddenly hopped to her feet, reaching up and plucking it down to hand it to Sam, who mouthed a word of thanks. "I guess psychopaths don't have to explain themselves."

"Listen to me," Sam said soothingly, "And you've gotta believe me on this. My brother and I - and Alex, the girl who was with Travis - we would never have hurt your wife, alright? He had something on Alex. That's the only reason she was doing such things."

"It's true," Alex admitted. "He managed to figure out I wasn't entirely human somehow."

"Oh, God, I'm so hungry," Jack suddenly moaned and her blue eyes flashed with panic.

Sam paused stiffened, in the middle of picking the lock. Dean was in danger, he and Alex both realized that. Alex silently hoped that the angels would take notice if he was put in bad enough trouble. "Don't do this," Sam pleaded, going back to working furiously on the lock.

"I can't ever see my family again," Jack mused. "You and your friends...you made me into this!"

"No one is making you kill us," Alex finally rasped, her voice cracking with pain. Jack snarled at her wordlessly and she scowled in response.

"Listen to me," Sam began again, his own voice beginning to tremble. "You've got this dark pit inside you. Believe me. We know. But that doesn't mean you have to fall into it, you don't have to be a monster."

Jack laughed hysterically at that. "Have you seen me lately?"

"It doesn't matter what you are." Sam said this fiercely. "It only matters what you do. Its your choice."

 _Click!_

Alex grinned when he managed to get the door open and Sam pushed it open quietly. Her excitement turned to dread when she saw how close Jack had gotten to Dean, who was beginging to stir, blearily opening his eyes.

"Jack!" Sam bellowed, lunging for the flamethrower still on the floor. He held a lighter up, eyes blazing with determination. Jack went still, and then lunged for the youngest Winchester. Alex darted past them to Dean as the man began to struggle to lift himself from the coffee table, offering what help she could.

She didn't look around when there was a bright flash and the smell of burned flesh filled her nose.

Not for the first time in her life, Alex was grateful that she'd been forced to become a skinwalker and not anything else. Because skinwalkers didn't require other people to live; they could live among humans peacefully, without the humans ever knowing the difference.

* * *

Silence filled the air later that night as the Impala screamed down a highway. Alex was curled up in the back seat, pain medication running through her veins and putting her into a somewhat decent sleep despite the bumpiness in the road. Sam was just staring out the window as Dean, who'd gone back to his normal self after a few minutes of being dazed while they tried to get out of the soon burning house.

"You did the right thing," Dean said suddenly, glancing at his brother. "That guy was a monster. There was no going back." Sam didn't reply, only continued to watch the night. "Sam, I want...look, I'm sorry. I've been kind of hard on you lately."

"Don't worry about it, Dean," Sam said finally, glancing at him with an exhausted look in his eyes.

"Your psychic thing...it scares the hell out of me," Dean told him.

Sam made a face. "Look, if it's all the same...I'd really rather not talk about it."

Dean cast him a mock look of shock, his lips threatening to curve into a smile. "You? Don't want to talk? Really? I should wake up the mutt in the back, she'd be amazed."

Sam rolled his eyes, not wanting to encourage him. "There's nothing more to say, Dean. I can't make you understand."

"Why don't you try?"

"I can't. Because you don't have it in you like I do. It's just something I've got to deal with." Sam raised his chin proudly. "And Alex said she'd do her best to help me, so...you don't have to even try to understand it. Anyways, it doesn't matter. It's playing with fire. I'm done with them. With everything."

"Really?" Dean was shocked, and he glanced at him before turning back to the road. "Well, that's a relief. Thank you."

Sam didn't respond in a way he exactly appreciated.

"I'm not doing it for you, or Alex, or the angels. Not for anyone. This is _my_ choice."

And he was determined to go through with it.

* * *

 _Finally got this updated! Chapter took a while to write for some reason or another._

 _Anyhow...to the anonymous reviewer who is leaving reviews asking about Skinwalker on my other work: stop. It's not going to make me write this faster, and it's only serving to piss me off, okay? Skinwalker is not written in advance like my other work. It takes me a long time to write out these chapters, and that's when I work on them daily on some occasions. I do have a life outside of writing, contrary to many people's beliefs._

 _On the other hand...thank you to reviewers! And those who favorited and followed! I appreciate you all! :D_


	17. Across the Atlantic and Back

**| October 15, 2008 |**

Blue eyes snapped open and a panicked cry left her lips as she was shocked awake by the nightmare that had torn through her peaceful night of sleep. Sweat dotted her forehead, and she heard the man sleeping in the bed beside hers shift, waking just barely before falling back asleep, hand still curled around the gun hidden beneath his pillow. Alex heaved for air, throwing an arm over her eyes, biting her lip to stifle her gasps.

Months later, and she still couldn't get over what had happened.

The scars on her back, throat, chest, and stomach all ached with the memories that flashed through her mind, the pain that had come with them not fading despite the fact that the wounds had.

She still hadn't told them. The Winchesters. She hadn't told anyone, not even Avery when she'd questioned it during one of the most terrifying nightmares. But Alex didn't really feel the need to inform her of the worst of horrors that came with being a hunter.

Alex sat up slowly, her blade still tucked safely against her arm. She caressed the blade as she climbed to her feet, throwing the covers of the bed back in favor of reaching for her jeans. She tugged them quietly over her hips, grabbed her phone, and then headed for the door.

She paused in the doorway to glance over her shoulder at the two sleeping Winchesters, and even smiled a bit.

"What angels," she muttered under her breath when she saw the glitter of drool on Sam's chin and heard the snoring coming from Dean's bed.

Closing the door quietly behind her, Alex stretched her hands above her head and breathed in the crisp cool air of Nebraska. They'd just finished up a ghost job a few states over and had been on their way to Colorado, where something weird was supposedly going on. Dean had more information, locked away in his petty mind, but she wasn't surprised that he hadn't told she and Sam everything. She was sure he'd tell them more about it the closer they got.

Her eyes lifted to the stars above and sorrow filled them. She missed seeing the stars as clearly as she had back in England. You didn't see them as clearly here...

"It's dangerous to be outside on your own."

Alex whirled around, a growl thundering in her throat at the sudden voice. But she relaxed when she recognized the angel that stood before her. His trench coat fluttered in an invisible breeze, and Castiel's blue eyes twinkled seriously beneath the moonlight. He didn't look too concerned, though, and she gave a dry smile before admitting, "Maybe. But I don't like to sit inside. Too many walls pressing in. Too many people breathing in a tiny space, and too many chances for them to gut you."

"Mm, you did suffer greatly, didn't you," Castiel mused. She stiffened, not too pleased by what he'd been hinting at. "They wouldn't mind if you told them, you know."

"I'm already a bloody mess," Alex laughed bitterly, her voice low. "They don't need to know what else happened while Winchester was gone." She raked a hand through her red-blonde hair. She wanted to go home, to where she knew it was safe and she wouldn't be bothered ever again. "What can I do for you Castiel?"

"Nothing as of yet," he admitted. "Lilith is still a risk, naturally, but there's nothing else that you can do as of right now."

"How helpful I feel," Alex said with a snort. The skinwalker planted her hands thoughtfully on her hips, her blue eyes studying him for a while before she asked, "Castiel, is there truly a God?" He gave a curt nod. "Why wouldn't He help us down here? Why wouldn't He stop things like what happened to my family from happening?"

"He can't focus on such meaningless things," Castiel began, but Alex cut him off instantly with a dark look in her gaze.

"Never say that my family's death was meaningless. That's like saying they were meaningless."

Castiel thought over his words and then began again, correcting himself. "God doesn't have the time to worry over such things that aren't in His control to begin with, Alexandriana. And He - we, as well - can't interfere with everything that happens."

Alex nodded slowly. There _were_ a lot of people; it made sense. "I see," she sighed. "Anyways, what are you doing here? You blokes don't usually show up unless you need something. Since there's nothing I can do for you, anyways. I'm curious."

Castiel's lips curved into a dry smirk that surprised her; he rarely showed such emotions. It was impressive, she thought, that he'd show such a look. "A Soldier doesn't need curiosity; they're meant to follow orders."

"...okay?" Alex blinked a few times, confused now. "Now you're speaking like those bloody idiots inside. Don't understand a single goddamn word they say sometimes. So stop faffing around and explain a tad bit better, would you? What's with the talk about soldiers?"

Castiel ignored the question, instead saying, "I have come with a request of angels higher than myself, the angels who receive word from God. They've said that you are to go through with whatever request Dean Winchester makes."

Alex immediately stiffened, her eyes flashing. "I want you to tread very carefully on what you say at this point," she said tensely, "Because there are several ways this could go, Castiel. Winchester is not exactly a clean person."

Castiel looked lost. "I don't understand what you mean. Dean is a very clean person for one who hunts."

Alex choked on laughter, pressing a hand over her mouth. She wheezed through her giggles after a moment, "No, no, I meant...dear Lord, you're daft in a good way. He has impure thoughts."

"Oh." His brow furrowed as he thought over this. "I still don't understand, Alexandriana. How does this have to do with following what he tells you to do?"

Alex giggled. "Oh, I give up. You're hopeless. And it's Alex, Cas, not Alexandriana. It's a ridiculously long name. That's why I have a nickname." Moving on from her amusement, she questioned, "Give me one reason why I should do as Winchester instructs."

Castiel blinked. "Because you've been told to do so?"

"...I'm not going to get a proper answer out of you, am I?" Alex mumbled, rubbing her temples. "To a certain extent, I guess I can do that. He is the one driving me around when I can't pay him to do so." She eyed Castiel. "Why?"

Rather than answering like she'd hoped, the angel merely turned his head to the sky and looked at the stars with a look that was somewhat similar to a child's. Alex blinked, recognizing wonder in his gaze. "The stars are bright."

"They're nicer where I'm from," Alex admitted, rocking back on her heels and feeling a pang of homesickness for England. "I haven't been back there in...bloody hell, it's already been nearly two years." Her eyes widened in surprise, as if she hadn't realized such a fact.

Castiel studied her expression carefully, and then tilted his head fractionally. "Do you have business there?"

"Not really. A bit." She tapped her lower lip in thought. "Had a few enemies, honestly. They found out what I was and tried to kill me, but they're towards the south, keeping more to London while I liked to stick around Manchester and the western side of the country."

"Your duty is here now, in the present, with the Winchesters," he told her. "It would be best that you finish up any old jobs that you have yet to complete; you can clear your mind, as well."

"Maybe so, but-"

Castiel suddenly stepped forward, pressing his fingers to her forehead. "Finish anything that has yet to be finished," he ordered a moment later as he stepped back again, his bue eyes gleaming with some sort of emotion she couldn't place.

Her heart jumped when she realized there was no seedy motel around her now, no open sky. She was surrounded by pavement and buildings. "Wait, what-"

"Call for me, but only when you've finished," he instructed as if he hadn't just taken her out of her comfort zone. "I'll take you back to the Winchesters. On the condition that you do whatever Dean asks of you."

"Wait," Alex said hastily, reaching out to grab his sleeve, but the angel had already disappeared with the fluttering of wings, and her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she realized that she was _home_.

In England.

 _Did he just...bloody hell, that bastard just abandoned me!_

Alex whirled around, licking her lips and inhaling sharply. The familiar city air filled her nostrils, and she had to fight back a smile. As irritated as she was, it was nice to see the country she so desperately missed.

First things first, she told herself as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. She paused, and then shrugged. It might not send the message, but it was worth a shot, right? If all else failed, she could ask to borrow someone's, or go to a store and borrow a phone there...

Sighing heavily, Alex pinched the bridge of her nose and scanned her contacts.

"Do I call Winchester number one or Winchester number two?" she uttered to herself quietly, contemplating just who would be the smartest choice. "One is on surprisingly good terms with me, the other's a bloody idiot. Winchester number one it is." She lifted the phone to her ear.

It beeped as it died a second later.

"Bloody hell," she cursed, glaring up at the sky. It was morning, she realized. Mid-morning actually, and people were moving this way and that on occasion. At least the stupid angel had made sure to place her in a hidden area, where she wouldn't be spotted at first. And at least she had her weapon...

Shoving her dead phone into her pocket, Alex ducked out of the alleyway and paced down the street, glancing at various shops and buildings as she passed one. The problem was, not just any phone connected straight to America...

Maybe she could find some tourists?

They sometimes wandered around Manchester...

Castiel was going to be torn to shreds the next time she saw him.

Alex went to work, sniffing out people that didn't belong. She came across a few tourists, but none of them were from America, and it drove her nuts to realize just how much she'd grown used to having some kind of snide comment following her everywhere she went.

"Damn," she muttered. "He could have at least sent a phone with me...oh!" Her eyes lit up. Locked on a young man who was chatting on his phone and looking in a window, she dove for him.

 _American_! His accent was enough to tell her. "Excuse me," she began politely, and the man paused, looking her way. His eyes widened fractionally, and Alex gave a winning smile that usually got her what she wanted. "May I borrow your blower?" she requested, drawing up her accent and every kind of slang she could think of. He gave her a weird look. "Your phone, I mean. I need to call someone in the United States, but mine died. I've been running around all bloody morning looking for someone who might have a working one."

"Uh...sure, hold on." The man finished up his conversation with whoever he was talking to quickly, and then pressed it into her hands. Eagerly dialing "Winchester number one's" number. She gave him another grateful look and then pressed it to her ear.

A sleepy "Hello?" came after a few moments. "The hell is this?"

"Alex," Alex greeted with fake cheer. Her voice held a deadly undertone. "Stepped out for a bit of fresh air and came across Castiel. You'll never believe where the bloody moron left me."

"...oh, God," Dean muttered back, his voice groggy. Alex heard a muffled yelp, and she guessed he'd thrown something at Sam to wake him up. "Where are you, we'll come get you-"

"If you can drive over the Atlantic, we need to have a chat, because I didn't believe that was possible."

There was a moment of silence before he groaned, "Are you friggin' kidding me right now?! We need to get to Colorado, and you're...ugh!"

"Yep. My home country's a pretty place, but I didn't necessarily need to come back." Alex propped a hand on her hip. "I'm supposed to finish up some business here, but...it's not something I want to do."

"I'll see what I can do." He sounded exhausted. Alex grimaced; he must truly be tired if he wasn't questioning whether or not they should leave her in England. "Keep a low profile. The hell were you doing up and talking to him anyways?"

Alex clamped her mouth shut, remembering the tearing of flesh, the smell of burning blood-

"No reason. None of your concern. Bye." She hung up without hesitation, and then pressed the phone back into the man's hand. "Thank you," she said honestly, smiling kindly at him.

"Uh, no problem," he muttered, looking a little startled. He hesitated and then offered, "Do you want to maybe go get a drink or something? I'm here for a few weeks, and-"

"Sorry, sir," she murmured, winking, "I'm not interested in a relationship right now." She patted his arm and then turned and hurried away before he could get a word in. She scowled as soon as her face had turned away.

Damn men thinking that she'd hang out with each and every one of them. She wasn't looking to hang out. She was in a rush. She needed to figure out how to quickly get out of England before the reason she'd left figured out she was back.

"Damn it, you feathery arse," she snarled under her breath. "I'm going to kick your bloody self into next week the next time I see you-"

She cut off, wrinkling her nose. She could smell sulfur. Not good. The skinwalker backtracked the way she'd come, scurrying backwards. A lot of it. She needed to avoid that area. Even with her blade, she wanted nothing more to do with demons in that quantity.

 _"No more,"_ she remembered pleading, _"Please-"_

She shook her head to clear it, and Alex cursed Castiel again.

"I hate this," she muttered. For the first time that she could remember, she wanted to go back to America.

* * *

After wandering around clueless for hours, Alex found herself seated glumly in an alleyway, her blue eyes narrowed irritably as she silently contemplated murdering the angel that had left her there with her blade. Night had fallen, and she was glaring at the wall.

"Castiel," she seethed, "I want to tear those stupid wings of yours off right now, I hope you know!" She received no answer. Of course not, as if an angel would listen to her after leaving her in a country that she'd left for a good goddamn reason-

"There's no need to be so rude, he's only doing his best."

The soft masculine voice had Alex snapping her head up, her eyes ablaze with wariness as she let her hand rest on her blade. The man standing before her blinked curiously at her, as if confused as to why she'd be turning a blade on him. His gaze held such an old look, that she quickly realized that he knew far more than she could ever hope to.

Growling in the back of her throat, she guessed, "Angel."

His gaze traveled to the stars above them. "Of sorts," he murmured quietly. "Castiel is doing his best," he repeated, "With the orders he has been given. You must forgive him for his actions, Alexandriana."

"Alex," she corrected irritably. She was tired of people calling her by her full name. It was a mouthful, and far too girly for one who hunted monsters and whatever else went bump in the night. "And I don't have to forgive that bastard for anything. Who just brings someone to a place full of enemies and leaves them there? I left my country for a reason."

The nameless angel calmly studied her, blinking gently with piercing green eyes. The vessel this angel used was an attractive middle-aged man, with those sharp emerald eyes and carefully styled black hair. Stubble sprouted on his cheeks and chin, carefully shaped, and he wore a suit that spoke of a business trade.

And then he spoke again. "He thought it best that you deal with those enemies. To help with your nightmares, I believe. The fear you now possess."

"Well, it won't." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Nothing you freaks do will ever get rid of that. _Nothing_."

He shook his head with a frown. "Nonsense. There's plenty that we could do. Replace the memories with something far more pleasant, perhaps even erase them entirely...but soldiers require such memories to trudge on, do they not?"

"Okay, that's it." Alex shoved herself to her feet, aware that she was rather short compared to this man. She suspected that he approached Sam in height, if only a couple inches shorter. "I don't know what you angels are hinting at with that bloody soldier stuff, but I'm not going to let you drag me into it. I want to go back. Take me back to the Winchesters."

He shook his head. "Castiel will come to retrieve you when it is time. Have faith, Alex, it would do for you to have even the tiniest. You're nearly as bad off as Dean Winchester in the faith department."

"Well, you don't exactly believe in angels and God when you're being ripped apart as a child," Alex said bitterly and then whirled away from him. She stalked off, refusing to listen to an angel who thought he knew more about her own thoughts than she did.

 _Bloody twats!_ she screamed silently. _All of them!_

She hated the angels with a great passion, she decided as she grouchily stalked down the street, ignoring a few curious looks that she received, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to throttle someone, because holy bloody hell, she just wanted to go back! She wanted to forget the reminders that jumped out at every second, the thoughts that never seemed to leave her mind, the phantom pains-

She wanted them to _stop_!

She just wanted to go back to hunting, after she'd left England and before she'd met the Winchesters, when everything had been simply a matter of who she would kill next. She wanted to scrub the blood from her hands, the dried tear tracks from her cheeks, left by weeks of awakening in tears of pain that no longer existed.

Alex heaved for air, silently wondering if she was in the midst of a panic attack.

She'd never had one before, but this seemed to be what they might be like.

A muffled sob left her lips, and she pressed a hand over her mouth to hide it, her blue eyes flashing.

She'd tell the Winchesters everything if it meant she could go back. She would tell them every detail of what had happened to her while they were away if it meant not having to wallow in her agonizing memories and pain. She'd explain why a certain way of movement or the way a knife would glint in false lighting made her look sick, why it made her want to flee.

She didn't care anymore.

She just wanted to run.

Her hands trembled, and Alex had to fight the urge to scream in sheer panic when sulfur filled her nose. Was it too much to ask, to go back without doing whatever the hell Castiel thought she needed to do?

Hadn't she done _enough_?

But no angel showed as she whipped around to discover a black-eyed woman before her. "Stay away from me," Alex thundered, her growl rising into a vicious snarl. She tried to not show her panic, but it did her no good. Not when her blue eyes gave it away so clearly.

"Come now," the demon purred in a lilting accent. "No need to be so rude. We're here to ask you some questions, that's all."

Alex snatched her blade up, ready to fight should she need to. "Sod off," she growled, and then jerked, whirling around when she saw movement in the corner of her eye. Another demon was behind her, watching with malicious intent.

"Well, damn," she rumbled under her breath, eyes darting back and forth. She lifted her chin proudly, her body trembling as she tried to keep herself under control. She needed to stay calm, she told herself. There was two of them - not five. She'd handled many more than two. She could handle two.

So when one lunged, she ducked, twirling and lashing out with her blade. It sliced through the woman's arm, and she screamed reeling back. There was an agonized look on her face, and Alex took advantage of her pain to attack the other demon. It snarled as she plunged the blade into its chest. Light shone as it convulsed beneath her, and then she was back to attacking the woman.

The woman held up very well against her, she'd admit. She knew when to block, how to stop Alex's quick blows. Since she was a demon, she could hold up against Alex's strength, which was impressive when Alex was used to overpowering people with it. She swept her leg out and caught the demon by surprise. It collapsed, and she threw herself down to stab it, her heart pounding and her eyes wide.

"Bloody hell," she groaned, climbing back to her feet. She staggered away from the bodies, fully expecting someone else to come along before long. She followed the alleyway, wiping her blade on her jeans and lining it up. As it rippled away into wherever it went when she was hiding it, she looked around, contemplating just pick pocketing enough money for a plane.

But that would be a lot of money.

And she didn't have the time for that.

Not when there were dozens of demons around, apparently.

Alex licked her lips, tilting her head thoughtfully. Her nose told her she was safe for the moment, but she doubted it would last for much longer. Sighing to herself, Alex slipped down the street, wishing not for the first time her phone worked. Maybe Bobby could have somehow purchased a plane ticket for her. He seemed to be good at sneaking things like that.

But there wasn't time to grieve over what could have been, she decided.

"Ugh," Alex muttered. She found a bench and dropped into it, rubbing her temples. Her tangled hair was pushed out of her eyes as she silently thought over what her next course of action could be.

Alex wished she'd been able to convince that last angel to take her back...she couldn't even summon him. He was long gone, without giving her his name or anything, and it annoyed her a little.

Most people introduced themselves before insulting the person they were talking to.

Alex yawned and then rested her head back, her arm resting in her lap so that her fingers brushed the inside of her arm. She was ready for another attack. Always ready-

"Are you done yet?"

Alex recognized the voice and her gaze darkened with anger. Her head snapped over to discover that Castiel rested on the bench beside her, his hands clasped and his blue eyes curiously studying her. He didn't seem too apologetic for leaving her in England; in fact, he looked impatient.

"I want to stab you," Alex muttered.

Castiel blinked. "Why? I gave you what you wanted, did I not? You missed your home country, so I brought you here. You had things to finish up, yet I doubt you've so much as tried."

"Because I don't want to finish those things up," Alex retorted, her eyes flashing. "I left because several hunters learned what I was and decided that I couldn't be trusted. I'm not going to kill other hunters just because they think I'm going to kill them. I left because of that, Cas. I don't want to stay here any longer. There's demons everywhere. Could you _please_ take me back?" Her voice trembled.

"Facing your fears will help you conquer them," Castiel pointed them out.

Alex scowled. "Do you not understand, Cas? I know you don't have emotions like the rest of us, but for fuck's sake!" She buried her face in her hands, frustration clear in the way she shrieked, "Do you know what it's like to be ripped into shreds a thousand times?!"

"I can imagine I do," he said seriously in his gravelly voice. "Traveling through Hell to retrieve Dean's soul was not exactly pleasant."

That startled her into silence for a moment, and then she gave a shuddering sigh. "I see." She took a deep breath to calm herself, trying to erase the fears in her heart. "Castiel, tell me. You can't have brought me here to deal with the hunters that went after me, or the demons. What the bloody hell are we doing here?"

His lips curved into a smile. "You wanted to see the stars," he said simply. He gestured to the sky above them. "I did not intend for you to see to the other hunters, or to even deal with demons, though it's greatly appreciated."

Alex didn't know how to react for a second, and then she said suspiciously, "You said I had things to finish up?"

"You must have loyalty to the Winchesters before anything else," he said seriously. "You are from this country, but it is time that you move on. I don't intend for you to give up your...I believe the word is slang. Or your habits. But you must be focused entirely on the path ahead."

Alex gawked. Her eyes flashed with anger, and then despair. A moment later, she finally just groaned, covering her face with her hands. "I can't...you brought me here, made me panic, and then decided that it was because you wanted me to forget loyalties that I've had for longer than I've been a skinwalker? Are you _mental_?"

"Not forget them," he replied. "Never forget them. Loyalties remain, but you must remain focused first and foremost on your loyalty to them." Castiel straightened, squaring his shoulders. "Sam comes second, of course. Until he can prove that he does not intend to return to his dark habits, his opinions don't matter."

"Harsh, aren't you," she mumbled, but pressed her lips together. She tilted her head back to study the stars, and then smiled slightly to herself. "Are you going to take me back or not, Cas? I don't have the money for a plane ticket. And I can't just steal enough for that, because that's a ridiculous amount of money."

"Dean has been trying to call for me for quite some time now," Castiel mused. His eyes flashed with amusement. "As has Sam. I haven't answered their prayers. They're growing frustrated."

Alex giggled, pressing a hand over her mouth. "Are you...are you ignoring them on purpose for your own amusement?"

"Not for my amusement," Castiel replied, looking puzzled. "Why would I do that? They're not calling upon me for reasons that are important, of course I wouldn't go to them. It's an insult that they would think of me like I can solve any problem they craft for themselves."

Alex laughed harder, and then patted the angel on the arm, her anger towards him long since forgotten. "Alright, Cas, I get it. Could you take me back now?"

Rather than responding aloud, he reached up with one hand and pressed two fingers to her forehead. Between one blink and the next, the world had shifted. Darkness was gone, and she could hearing people bustling about. She stood beside the angel and the Impala - which she'd never been happier to see. She ran her fingers over the slick paint, and then beamed. "Thanks, Cas."

Castiel retracted his hand, losing the hint of a smile as he sobered up and said, "I recommend that you tell Dean and Sam of what has occurred in the time that Dean was in Hell." She tensed, but neither protested nor agreed. Instead, she was silent. After a few moments, her shoulders slumped.

She knew he was right; she should have told them long ago, to be honest. Dean's trip to Hell had been revealed after such a short time of knowing her, as had many things, and they deserved to know. She supposed Dean had gone through something similar, anyways, and she remembered Avery once offering to listen when she was ready.

Maybe talking would make the nightmares go away.

"I will," she said with a sigh, "Right now. Thanks, Cas."

The only response she received was the fluttering of wings as he disappeared, and the skinwalker squared her shoulders. She tipped her chin up proudly and then slid over to the motel room, wrinkling her nose at the stink of exhaust as a car left the parking lot.

She contemplated just walking in, and then just shrugged and did it.

"Surprise," she said with a wry grin, stepping inside.

Alex went still.

There was no one there. Bewildered, she looked back outside, taking note of the Impala. There was no way Dean would leave Baby behind. So where were they? Her icy eyes darted this way and that - until she caught sight of a shadow slide into sight just beside her.

Alex ducked just in time to avoid a nasty blow to the head. "What the bloody hell?" she snarled, whirling on her heel and stumbling back into the motel room, blade at the ready only an instant later. The skinwalker bristled, furious.

"Alex?"

She glared, and then relaxed upon recognizing who'd tried to attack. Reluctantly lowering her blade and annoyed, the red-blonde snapped in a rumbling growl, "You bloody twat! Stop faffing around with weapons around people you know!"

Sam Winchester himself smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. Thought you were some random demon sneaking in or something."

Alex rolled her eyes and hid her blade. "Well, I'm not. Where's Winchester number one?"

Sam jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "He went down the street to the gas station. Wanted to get some snacks. We were gonna head out to Colorado since we couldn't exactly get to you anyways...did Cas bring you back?"

Alex studied him for a moment. "...you were going to leave without waiting until I could get back? Thanks. Thanks a lot, Sam." She scrubbed a hand down his face as he gestured helplessly.

"What else were we supposed to do, Alex? We couldn't exactly fly the Impala out to England!"

Alex rolled her eyes and then flopped backwards onto a bed after making her way over to it. Sam glanced outside, seeing if Dean was coming back yet, and then kicked the door shut after entering the room. She pinched the bridge of her nose, and then glanced up when he asked what she'd ended up having to do.

"Get this," she said, smirking at the fact that she'd used one of his favorite phrases. "Supposedly the angels want me to focus entirely on doing as Dean tells me to do? Castiel said as much. As did some other angel I randomly came across...kind of want to punch that one..."

Sam snorted and settled across from her, on the other bed. She sat up, running a hand through her locks. "They...want you to follow Dean's orders?"

"Pretty much. Cas took me home to "forget my loyalties" as he put it. Gotta be entirely focused on the future." She rolled her eyes. "Dunno what the bloody hell he thought he was doing sending me there though."

They both paused when the door suddenly opened and Dean trampled on in, his arms ladden with some plastic bags full of various food and drinks for the road. He paused to stare at her, and she returned his stare with mockingly wide blue eyes. "Huh. He brought you back?" he muttered as he nudged the door shut.

"Wow, thanks, Winchester," she said sarcastically. "Such a warm welcome. Missed you, too." Her gaze became serious. "Put the bags down, Winchester. I need to have a talk with you two about some things that happened while you were away..."

* * *

It was nearly an hour before she actually convinced them to sit down, shut up, and listen. Sam seemed less concerned about what she wanted to say, more determined to get to Colorado. But Dean seemed to sense that something was strange, that she wanted to say something important, and his green eyes watched her when they'd finally settled down to listen.

"Show and tell first," Alex decided in a mumble, speaking to herself. She unbuttoned her shirt, ignoring the playful catcall that Dean gave and shed her shirt. She'd been naked enough in front of both of them that she didn't care, standing there in her bra and jeans, with her skin on display.

Her eyes flashed as she gestured to herself. "I've shown you plenty of times since Dean came back, though I doubt either of you cared to pay attention and ask about the scars."

Dean narrowed his eyes, suddenly leaning forward. Rather than appreciating the attractive appearance of a fit young woman, he focused on the other parts. The massive scars that showed badly healed wounds on her stomach, the miniscule ones that littered every inch of her. He saw the brands with a decorative letter "L" in various places, a long thin scar from a blade that ran along her collar bone. There were certain scars, where he could see that a blade had been plunged in, and then there was the worst of the scars. It was nearly an inch in width, traveling from her right ribs and down towards her left hip before curving around to her back, where he imagined dozens of others to rest.

Sam had fallen silent.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Alex knew.

He'd already known.

The bastard.

Finally, Dean sat back. His green eyes held a dark emotion that Alex couldn't read as she pulled her shirt back on. But she could see the recognition in there. He'd been tortured, too, and he knew exactly what kind of hellish pain she'd endured.

"What happened?" Sam asked, and she shot him a dirty look. Did he think she didn't realize that he'd known? But she decided to amuse him for Dean's sake, since the eldest brother had looked to her for an explanation.

"Not too long after I went to stay with Avery," she said quietly, her blue eyes misting over with a haunted look as she spoke. She paced back and forth, unable to sit still, her hands fiddling with her shirt and then her hair, anything she could touch. "I got attacked by a couple of bloody demons. I don't know how many, I don't care. They locked me up for nearly a week, endlessly digging at me with that bloody knife-" She cut off, shuddering.

"They ripped, and they tore, and they didn't _stop_ ," Alex rasped. "Kept demanding who'd gotten through their defenses, how they'd gotten a prisoner out, and I couldn't tell them. Now, I guess I know it was you," she added, gesturing helplessly to Dean, who blinked calmly in response.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered after a moment.

"Yeah, pretty much." She raked her hands through her hair and then said with a heavy sigh, "Haven't slept since. Never going to get myself a decent non-hunting bloke," she laughed bitterly, touching her scarred cheek with her lips curved into a twisted grimace that she couldn't help. Not that anyone would have her as a skinwalker.

Sam's brow furrowed. "What does Cas have to do with any of this? I'm guessing he took you off to England after you woke up from a nightmare or something, right?"

She cast him a suspicious look, but nodded. "Right. I went out to get some fresh air." She dropped to sit roughly on the floor of the motel room, taking a deep breath and exhaling it sharply. "I, err, was told to not forget loyalties, but focus on things as they are right now, apparently." That earned a bewildered look and she shrugged. "That's what he said. My trip was to see the stars. For the kind of bastard he is, Cas can be fairly kind apparently."

"...the only reason," Dean said slowly, "That Cas took you to England was so that you could see the stars?"

Alex shrugged. "From what I could tell. I managed to take care of a few demons while I was there, though, so it wasn't a complete waste of time." She licked her lips thoughtfully, finally sitting down on the end of one of the two beds in the room, rubbing her side with a grimace, as if remembering everything made the wounds there ache. "Castiel thought I should tell you bloody freaks about what happened while you were away."

"Good to know that you were tortured for a week, yeah. Would explain a few things," Dean muttered. He frowned suddenly. "is that why you were so against hunting again?"

She nodded. "On top of...cleaning up, it didn't create a very good image to see at night." She fell quiet after that, rocking back in silence, and Dean fell into a quiet and thoughtful moment as well.

It was Sam who spoke up again. "...so are you going to ditch us and head out? I'm guessing that's why you thought to tell us."

"No," she said sharply. Alex gave him a look, insulted. "Unlike some of us, I'm not an arse that'll disappear off to who the bloody hell knows where." She lifted her chin proudly. "Besides. I don't think the angels would be pleased if I left, to be honest. They seem to want me where I am."

Sam pretended not to hear what she said though a guilty expression fluttered across his face before being replaced with a calm one. "So...are we going to hang around here all day or are we going to actually go places?"

"We'll go places." Dean was firm in that matter.

But Alex yawned loudly, her eyes bleary with sleepiness. "I haven't slept well in a while and haven't slept at all today. Would one day hurt?" They gave her a look. "Alright, you bloody morons, go get the car. I'm coming." She rolled her eyes, standing. "I'll run to the loo and then meet you out front."

"Good," Dean said smugly.

The two Winchesters gathered up everything - including her possessions - and then headed out the door. Dean started the Impala, from what her sharp senses caught. Alex shook her head, exhausted after running around and dealing with angels and demons. But she raised her chin and pushed her way into a bathroom.

She was just washing her hands when she became aware of breath on her shoulder. Her head snapped up and she shrieked in fear and surprise, recoiling away from the thoughtful green-eyed and nameless angel that had spoken to her in England. "What the bloody _hell_ ," she seethed, scowling. A hand rested on her blade.

He cast her a look, unimpressed. "Alex," he greeted simply, and then told her, "It is best you hurry. Something dark is approaching the area, and it would be best if you were long gone."

"...thanks, I think?" She stared at him for a moment. "...what's your name?"

He only smiled slightly, eyes glinting proudly. "What is the phrase that you mortals use...? I believe it's "Wouldn't you like to know." Is it not?"

And then he was gone.

Alex furrowed her brow, bewildered, but she said nothing more, instead ducking out of the bathroom as quickly as she could when she heard Sam shout her name from the car.

* * *

 _A new character has arrived! You'll be seeing a lot of him. And new information on Alex's time while Dean was in Hell...not so pleasant, eh?_

 _Thanks to reviewers and those who favorited and followed! I appreciate it a lot! :D_


	18. Yellow Fever

**|October 23, 2008|**

 _Disgusting_ , Alex thought as she wrinkled her nose delicately. She took in the scent of the body in the bag. The coroner ignored her odd sniffling and gestured to the body.

"Agent Tyler, Agent Perry," he said seriously, "Meet Frank O'Brien."

Sam peered down at the man in the bag with a thoughtful look, and Dean lightly tugged at the leash connected to Alex's neck when she tried to lift herself a little. She glared up at him with icy eyes and he gave her a warning look that told her not to. It would be bad if she did.

Not that she knew how it'd be bad...bastard.

Alex flicked her ears as Sam said slowly, "He died of a heart attack, right?"

"Three days ago," the coroner confirmed. When Sam gave him an odd look, the coroner shrugged. "O'Brien was forty-four and a marathon runner. Guess everyone drops dead soon or later. It's why I got job security."

"...you don't think it's weird?" Dean gave him an incredulous look. "Just yesterday, two perfectly healthy men bit it in Maumee. All heart attacks. How is that not strange?"

He had a point. Alex woofed her agreement and ignored the coroner's look of disgust. Let him be disgusted. She was the best looking thing there. Alex started to lift herself again, wanting a look at the body as the coroner replied, "Sounds like a problem for Maumee to me. Why do you feds give a damn anyways?"

Dean ignored the question. "We just want to see the results of Frank's autopsy." The coroner looked confused and he clarified, "The on you're doing right now."

The coroner sighed and went to go and retrieve some supplies to open up the body. Sam watched him go and then leaned over to whisper in a low voice, "You really don't think this is an actual heart attack, do you?"

"Do I look like an idiot?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Of course not."

The coroner came back and without hesitation, got to work. Alex ignored the sounds of them cutting into flesh after he'd forced Dean and Sam to put on some various articles of clothing.

"First dead body?" he asked Dean when Dean had put the leash beneath his foot and took on a disgusted look.

"Far from it," he muttered. Alex gave a choked laugh-like sound and then turned her snout away as if she hadn't made it when he glared at her. She rested her large body on the ground and stretched out, putting her head on her paws as they chatted above her, ears pricked.

Dean had been somewhat nicer to her since she'd revealed what had happened to her. She wasn't sure if it was the fact that they now had the torture bit in common or what, but she didn't mind. There were less arguments and threats and they could focus more on the actual job. She'd talked with Avery after a short week and Avery had offered incredible amounts of encouragement.

Alex's sharp eyes caught everything, from Dean handing a pair of rib cutters to the coroner to Sam's white and sweat-dotted face. Apparently he didn't like seeing the body cut open. She flinched at the snapping of bones. As they did that, Dean took a look at something else on Frank's body. "Is this from a wedding ring?" he asked suddenly, and she lifted her head. "I didn't think he was married."

"Ain't my department." He snorted, as if amused. When Sam asked about a series of scratches on the man's arms, he answered sarcastically, "When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop. Shocker, right? Probably got scraped when it did - huh." He paused, narrowing his eyes. "I can't find any...any blockages. Not in the major arteries, anyways."

Alex flicked an ear and then gave another choking laugh when he shoved the heart into Dean's gloved hands. Dean stared at the heart in horror, green eyes wide and his entire body stiffened.

"Looks pretty damn healthy, right?" The coroner turned back to the body, and Sam cracked a grin - until the coroner's cut spattered something onto his face. "Oops! Sorry, spleen juice."

The look on Sam's face was priceless, and even when they were in the car on the way to the sheriff's station, the skinwalker couldn't stop laughing.

"Shut up, Alex," Sam muttered, scrubbing his face with water and what she suspected to be sanitizer. Alex only gave a wolfish grin and rested her chin on her paws, soothed into a sleepy state by the movement of the car. With the changing of weather, her wounds were aching, and it felt nice to get away from the pain for even just a little while.

When they reached the sheriff's station, Dean grabbed the leash connected to her and patiently let her jump out before closing the door. She stuck to his side as expected, her blue eyes catching everything.

"Want me to?" Sam asked, gesturing to the leash.

Alex lifted her lips and glared.

"No," Dean said with a smirk, amused. "I've got it."

No way in hell did she trust Sam after laughing at him.

They made their way into the building, Alex silent and losing the human emotions. She settled into a determined appearance, assuming that it's what most working dogs looked like when they were working. They were told to sit and wait and Dean didn't hesitate to drop into a chair. Sam settled into the one beside him.

Alex reluctantly slid to her belly at their feet, wagging her tail once when Dean gave a mocking pat to her head.

"Nice," the deputy behind the desk said, gesturing to her. "Don't think I've ever seen one like that come in...what breed? It good at work?"

Alex tried to not feel insulted as Sam answered for them. "Wolf-dog. She's great at what she does."

"Bit of a whiner though," Dean mused.

Alex growled low in her throat. The deputy laughed nervously and then looked over his shoulder when a door nearby opened. A man who she assumed to be the sheriff stepped out. He stared at them for a moment, and then turned to look at the deputy. "Who are they?"

"Feds," the deputy told him, hesitating. "I-"

"And you kept them _waiting_?" he demanded, looking somewhat annoyed.

"You...you said not to disturb you," the deputy mumbled nervously.

The sheriff scowled, but said nothing more and turned to the men. "Come on in, fellas. Sorry about him, he's a goddamn _idiot_."

"No problem," Sam said, looking apologetically towards the bothered deputy. They started for the office, Alex padding between them. When they reached the door, the sheriff stopped them and demanded they take their shoes off and leave Alex out with the deputy. "Sorry, she's with us. She gets aggressive when she's hanging out alone," Sam lied.

The sheriff sighed but let her in. "I don't remember feds ever coming around with a dog..."

"Testing period," Dean said smoothly. "Seeing how it'd work out."

"Anyways...Al Britton," he introduced, shaking Dean's hand and then Sam's. He eyed Alex warily and she curled a lip in annoyance. "Good to meet you." He waved for them to sit down and then slathered his hands with sanitizer. Alex wrinkled her nose and sneezed once or twice, much to Dean's amusement. "So what can I do for you?"

"Well," Sam began, "We're looking into the death of Frank O'Brien. We understand your men found the body?"

Sheriff Britton gave a curt nod. "Me and Frank...we were friends. We were on a softball team together...I knew him since high school. To be honest, I haven't..." He paused and then shook his head. "He was a good man."

"Big heart," Dean complemented, and Sam elbowed him when Sheriff Britton wasn't looking. "Before he died, did you notice Frank acting strange?" Dean asked. "Scared of something maybe?"

"Oh, hell yeah," the sheriff admitted. "Real jumpy."

"Do you know what he was scared of?" Sam questioned and Alex kept an eye on the man's scent and the sound of his thudding heart to listen for lies.

"No. Wouldn't answer the phone. Sent some of my boys over and...you know the rest." Anxious, Sheriff Britton poured some more sanitizer on his hands and rubbed them together. Alex snorted in disbelief and buried her nose in her paws with a grumble. Dean nudged her with his toe and she growled, glaring at him.

"So...why'd the feds care? You don't think there's a case, do you?"

Dean glanced at his brother, who met his gaze wordlessly. "No, no," he told the sheriff, clearly lying. Yet the sheriff didn't notice, only fretted over the sanitizer some more. "Probably nothing."

Sam agreed. "Just a heart attack."

They finished up the ordeal quickly and then headed out to get some lunch. Alex was crabby when Sam suggested she stay in her current form.

 _"Because it's easier,"_ he told her.

She'd lifted her lips and shown her teeth in her irritation before calming down. She stuck close to Dean, who still held her leash. "No way that was a heart attack," Dean said suddenly, shaking his head.

"No," Sam muttered in agreement. "Definitely not. Three victims. All had the red scratches and went from jittery to terrified to dead within forty-eight hours." He shoved his hair out of his face with a thoughtful expression, and Alex rolled her eyes.

"What can scare them to death?" Dean questioned with a frown. "Then again, what can't? Ghosts, vampires...chupacabras?" He exchanged an amused look with Alex now, and her icy eyes shone. "Could be hundreds of different things."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "So...make a list and start crossing things off. That'll help us out, I think."

"Who was the last person to see Frank O'Brien alive?" Dean rubbed his hands thoughtfully on his pants. "Neighbor, right? Mark Hutchins." Sam nodded and Dean suddenly stopped, squinting ahead. "Hang on, Sammy."

Alex and Sam followed his gaze to see a group of teenagers that had started up a conversation further down the street. Alex blinked and looked back at Dean. "I don't like the looks of those kids. Let's walk this way." He started across the street, tugging Alex along and leaving Sam to stand there and look after him with confusion.

* * *

"Tyler and Perry...like Aerosmith."

Alex flashed her white teeth at the man before them. Mark Hutchins sat before her with a snake in his hands, stroking the scales thoughtfully. "Yes, small word, hm? So, Mr. Hutchins. When was the last time you saw Frank O'Brien?"

Even Alex was somewhat uncomfortable in the room she found herself in. They were surrounded by reptiles of every kind - mostly snakes, though. Terrariums lined the walls and her sharpened hearing could pick up every sound. Every hiss, every slither, every squeak from the mice hidden somewhere nearby.

Beside her, Dean, who'd been studying a tank, snapped his head around to face forward, eyes widened. Alex bit back a smile when he swallowed thickly, not pleased with the reptiles around them.

"Monday," Mark told them. "He's my neighbor, you see. He was watching me from his window. I waved, but he just closed the curtains."

Alex tsked sympathetically and swept a lock of red-blonde hair behind her ear, somewhat disappointed that he didn't appear to be nervous. The nasty scar on her face had disrupted her ability to turn men into jello with a quick smile.

Now, smiling just twisted her face into a disgusting grimace.

"Did you speak to him recently? Did he seem different?" Dean urged. "Scared?"

"Totally," Mark agreed, running his fingers over the snake's scales. "He was flipping the hell out."

Alex leaned back and playfully nudged Dean when he anxiously eyed another tank. _Does he have some kind of phobia in regards to reptiles...?_ "What scared him?"

"Witches." They stopped and stared. "Well, the _Wizard of Oz_ was on the TV the other night, right? He told me that the green bitch was totally gonna get him." Alex asked what else had scared him, and Mark shook his head. "Everything. Al-Qaeda, ferrets, sweeteners. Those pez dispensers with their "dead little eyes". Lots of stuff."

Dean eyed a lizard suspiciously as he asked, "What was he like?"

Mark hesitated and Alex quickly promised, "Don't worry. Be as truthful as you can. Even if it's harsh."

"I...I don't want to hammer him...but...in high school, he was a _dick_. But he got better!" Alex arched a brow curiously as Dean narrowed his eyes at the python that had wrapped itself comfortably around Mark's arm. "He was a bully. Probably taped half the town's- uh, never mind." He flushed.

"So he pissed a lot of people off," Dean mused. His green eyes darted to Alex as if pleading that they could leave, and that action had her gawking at him openly. "You think anyone would have wanted to get revenge?"

Mark frowned suddenly. "...didn't he have a heart attack...?" Alex glared and he hastily answered. "No, no. I don't think so. Like I said, he got better. And...after what happened to his wife, too."

"He was married?" Alex questioned.

Mark nodded. "She died about twenty years back...he was _really_ broken up about it."

They fell quiet. Suddenly, Mark said, "Don't be scared of Donny! He's a sweetheart. It's Marie you got to look out for." He grinned and nodded to the couch. "She smells fear."

Confused, Alex turned to look and then stared as a massive albino python slithered from the back of the couch and creeped over Dean's shoulder. He gasped and held still, terror on his face as it draped itself in his lap and flicked its tongue in and out, getting comfortable.

Alex couldn't help but dive for her phone. She snapped a picture before he could even get a word out and winked when he glared furiously at her. "Winchester number two will want to see," was all she said before tucking it away and coming back to rescue the poor man from the creature that appeared to be going nowhere anytime soon.

* * *

"Thanks," Alex muttered as Sam held the door of the Impala open for her. She climbed in without hesitation and relaxed back with a groan of exhaustion. Sam walked around to the other side to climb in, and the skinwalker eyed the eldest Winchester as he awkwardly scratched at his arm.

"Any luck at the county clerk's office?" Sam asked his brother after somehow fitting his body into the seat. He shot a playful look at Alex as he pushed her bag into the back.

Dean grimaced and started the car, pulling into traffic with ease. "I'm not sure if you'd call it luck, to be honest. "Frank's wife, Jessie, was a manic-depressive. She chose to stop taking her meds in 1988 and disappeared. Found her two weeks later strung up in her motel room three towns over. Suicide."

Alex clucked her tongue with a sympathetic look. "Did Frank help her?"

Dean shook his head. "No, Frank was working the swing shift when she vanished. Airtight alibi."

Alex watched the world outside go by - slowly. She blinked and frowned as a car sped past them. Nevertheless, she told Dean, "Frank's home was clean. I couldn't smell anything off and we didn't find anything odd in it."

"Only a thousand other possibilities, right?" Dean muttered sarcastically.

"Yeah," Sam sighed and then frowned at his brother. He leaned over to look at the speed they were going. "Dude! You're going twenty!" Dean raised a brow questioningly at him and Sam threw his hands up. "That's the speed limit."

"What?" Dean retorted, "Safety's a crime now?"

Alex gaped as he drove through an intersection - and straight past the hotel they were staying in. "Winchester, you just...where the bloody hell are you going?!"

"Alex," Dean said as if she didn't know what she was talking about, "I'm not going to make a left-hand turn into oncoming traffic. Unlike certain other people who disappear off to who knows where with a weird ass angel, I'm not suicidal." There was a moment in which Sam and Alex stared blankly at the eldest Winchester. He stared back for a moment. "Oh, God," he said finally. "I didn't just say that."

"Oh! Hold on!" Alex dug through her bag, hearing a loud beeping. She frowned as she pulled out the EMF detector Sam had used when going through Frank's apartment and swung it around. It went off when she pointed it at Dean, who finally just pulled the car over.

Sam snatched it from her fingers and directed it away. It went silent.

Then, he pointed it at Dean.

Dean looked horrified when it went off again. "Am I haunted?" he demanded, his eyes widening. "Am I _haunted_?!"

* * *

Alex shifted uneasily, leaning against the hood of the Impala. She could see Sam talking on the phone a short ways away, his dark eyes troubled as he raked a hand through his hair. He'd suggested calling Bobby to see what might be done. Behind her, she could hear Dean blasting the Eye of the Tiger and when she looked over her shoulder to check on him, she could see him doing some sort of beating on the air.

"Bloody idiot," she sighed, and then looked up when Sam came over, tucking his phone away. He smacked the top of the car and Dean jumped, swearing colorfully. "Dude," he said after glaring at Sam. he showed them the insides of his arms, which were scratched bloody. "Look."

Sam frowned. "I just talked to Bobby," he told him. "And...well, you're not gonna like it, Dean."

"Well?" Alex urged, reminding them that she was there. "What is it? Some kind of thing only idiots suffer from?"

Dean didn't seem to care, looking expectantly at his brother. Sam shook his head and informed them, "It's ghost sickness."

"Oh, God, no," Dean moaned, and then paused. "...I don't even know what that is."

Alex tensed. "There was a case back home," she said suddenly. "Years and years back. The one who trained me to hunt dealt with it. I don't remember how...basically, there are various cultures that believe certain spirits can infect us living people with disease."

"It's why they stopped displaying bodies in houses and started taking them off to funeral homes," Sam added.

"Okay, get to the good stuff." Dean didn't look pleased, and Alex smirked at him.

"Symptoms are you get anxious...then scared...then _really_ scared...and then..." Alex trailed off and Dean fidgeted.

"What?" he demanded, "Tell me!"

"Your heart gives out."

Dean looked terrified, which only made the skinwalker cackle with excitement over the fact that she was successfully teasing him when he couldn't tease back. Sam sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand down his face. "Look, you wouldn't have caught it from a ghost. We haven't seen one in forever. It spreads like the flu...Frank was the first to die. He was probably patient zero." He planted his hands on his hips. "So...get this. He was in Maumee over the weekend for a softball tournament. Which is where he must have infected the other two victims."

"Ghosts infected Frank, Frank infects other guys, and I get the corpse?" Dean said with exasperation, furious.

"...yeah," Alex said with a nod. She grimaced. "Sounds about right."

"So now what?" he barked. "I have...what, forty-eight hours before I go insane and my heart stops?"

"More like twenty-four," Sam corrected.

Dean gave a bitter laugh. "You've got to be kidding me!" He threw his hands up, glaring at Sam. "Why me? Why not you? I mean, you got hit with the spleen juice!"

Alex had never been more grateful for having been forced to play pretend when Sam admitted, "You see...Bobby and I have a theory about that, too." He glanced at Alex before focusing back on Dean. "Turns out they all shared a certain...personality type. Frank was a bully. The other two...one was a vice principal, the other a bouncer."

"Your point, Sam?" Dean said impatiently.

"They were all wankers," Alex sighed.

Dean stared at them and then scowled. "So you're saying I'm a dick?"

"No, no, no," Sam said hastily. "It's not just... All three used fear as a weapon and now this disease is just returning the favor."

"I don't scare people," Dean protested.

"All we do is scare people," Alex pointed out with a slight smirk.

"Well you're a bitch and he's a dick, too!"

"Apparently we're not?"

"Whatever," Dean snapped, turning back to Sam. Sam flinched at the dark look in his eyes. "How do we stop it?"

"Gotta gank the ghost that started it." Sam fidgeted. "We do that and the disease should clear up. I was thinking Frank's wife...we don't know why she killed herself, you know?" He paused. "Why are you two waiting out here? Isn't this our hotel?"

Alex burst into giggles now, her eyes sparkling as she informed him, "Our room's on the fourth floor." She gestured to Dean, who pouted.

"It's...it's high," he said faintly and Sam moaned in frustration.

"I'll see if we can move us down to first," the younger Winchester muttered and headed back inside, leaving them to fend for themselves. Dean called a thanks and then looked to Alex, who suddenly flashed her canines at him. They had sharpened at her command. He flinched and she smirked.

"Problem, Winchester?"

"No, no. No problem at all...mutt."

After what seemed like ages, they'd moved into a room on the first floor and Sam left again to do some work. Alex offered to go with him, but he instructed her to stay with Dean and make sure he didn't do anything stupid. So, she sat on the couch, her bare feet propped on a coffee table as Dean tried to scan through some book he'd dug out.

Alex had been enjoying the peace for a good hour or so when suddenly, Dean snapped to his feet, reached up, and then yanked a clock off the wall. "Winchester!" she snapped as he hurled it. It shattered on the floor and he glared before going to grab two beers out of the fridge.

"Bite me, Alex!"

"With pleasure," she said darkly and then went back to scanning through a newspaper.

He dropped onto the couch beside her with a scowl, chugging the first beer. The second seemed to be to help him calm down, as he sipped at it, staring at the scar on her face openly. Growling after a moment, she put her newspaper down. "Can I help you?"

"That looks like it hurt like hell."

"It did," she muttered, touching it. "It all did, but what the hell. Nothing compared to some teenage girl's boy problems. Right?" Alex scoffed and he cracked a hint of a grin. But then he became serious and she sighed. "It was silver. I think I told you what happened?"

"Sam left, you fought something, dropped it and it scraped along your cheek or somethin'."

"Yep." Alex touched the scar with slim fingers. They fell quiet for a moment. And then she asked, "Why are you so curious about it?"

Dean answered slowly. "I...want to know what Sam did while with that demon bitch. It doesn't seem right that he'd suddenly switch it all off. I think there's something he's not telling us."

Alex tucked her knees against her chest. "I think you're right," she admitted, releasing a heavy sigh. "But I think he's going okay for now. We don't have time to worry about it now, either. We need to get this ghost sickness dealt with." She smiled ruefully. "I can hear your heart going a hundred miles an hour in your chest. You're scared of me right now. It's hilarious."

He looked at her for a long moment and then suddenly chugged half of his beer. "Shut up," he muttered afterwards, glaring when she laughed. Then his expression changed and Dean shook his head and snickered at himself. "Shut up," he repeated when she giggled harder, her eyes glittering with excitement over what she could hold over his head now.

When Sam walked into the hotel room a few minutes later, they were speaking in thoughtful low voices about various things and he smiled a fraction before noting the clock on the floor. "Everything...okay?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah," Dean drawled. "Just peachy."

Alex grinned. "He's scared of me now. Find anything?"

Sam chuckled and told them, "Yeah...Jessie O'Brien's body was cremated, so I'm damn sure she's not our ghost." He noted Dean scratching at his arm anxiously. "Stop picking at that, Dean. How are you feeling?"

"Awesome." He scowled. "Nice to have my head on a chopping block. Almost forgot what that feels like."

Alex grimaced and Sam sighed. "Freaking delightful," Dean growled and then coughed, making a face.

"We'll keep looking," Alex reassured, and then frowned when he coughed harder. "Winchester? You okay?"

He shook his head, choking suddenly. Sam's eyes flashed and he moved to approach, but Dean staggered to his feet, retching. He stumbled over to the sink, Sam and Alex close behind. "Dean!" Sam said anxiously as he coughed and hacked, struggling to breathe. Suddenly, he spat something out.

"A woodchip?" Alex demanded after peering in the sink. Dean stared at the bloodied piece of wood in horror.

"We've been ignoring the biggest clue we have," Sam said suddenly, staring at his brother. "You."

"I don't want to be a clue," Dean gasped, relieved that he could breathe again.

"Abrasions, cuts, the disease...it's trying to tell us something," Sam continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"Okay, get your ass out of the preaching bit and tell me. What the bloody hell is that supposed to tell us?" Alex huffed, hands on her hips.

"Wood chips?" Dean said sarcastically.

Sam grinned. "Exactly."

* * *

Alex shifted impatiently from her place beside Sam, making sure to keep a good distance between her and Dean. He'd started giving her worried looks in the rearview mirror on the way to the lumber mill they now stood in front of. To be honest, she really didn't want to cause a premature heart attack in the guy.

Sam was busy checking the trunk, digging through weapons when Dean said warily, "I'm not going in there."

"We are _not_ leaving you alone right now," Alex said darkly. "You're going in, Winchester."

Dean stared at the mill. And then he downed half a flask of whiskey. "Let's do this. It's a little spooky, isn't it?"

Alex sighed. "Bloody hell, this idiot."

Sam flashed her a faint smile and then offered Dean a gun. He stared at it and then looked his brother dead in the eye and said, "Oh, I'm good. I'm not carrying that." They stared at him. "It could go off," he protested, and then snatched a flashlight out of the back. "I'll man the flashlight!"

"You're like Cas two-point-oh," Alex whispered in horror.

"You man that flashlight," Sam sighed, offering Alex a pistol. She took it and shoved it into the waist of her jeans. She readied her blade, checking its sharpness and smiling when Dean swore at the sight of it.

After grabbing an EMF, which started going off immediately, they entered the mill.

"That's not gonna work with me around, is it?" Dean sighed.

"You don't say. Come on." Sam led him further into the mill and Alex kept close behind them, senses on high alert. Sam paused suddenly. "Wait..." He paused to scoop something off of the ground and Alex crowded past the nervous Winchester to peer over his shoulder. "To Frank, Love Jessie," Sam ready quietly. "Frank O'Brien's ring."

"What the bloody hell was he doing here?" Alex hummed before ducking into a room. She eyed some lockers on the other side of the room, wrinkling her nose. She paused, however, when there was a sound that clicked off the inside of one. She beckoned to the Winchesters and edged closer. Sam readied his gun and after a look from Alex, Dean shone the flashlight at the locker. There was moment in which they stared at the locker.

And then Sam threw it open and a cat hissed.

Alex yelped, dropping her knife and covering her ears as Dean screamed bloody murder. The cat booked it past them, bolting into the outside world, and Dean dropped his hands to his knees, wheezing for air. "That was scary!"

Alex had to really fight down her laughter as Sam gave him an exasperated look and sidled over to a table to investigate what was on it. He touched an ID card with a thoughtful look. "Luther Garland," he reported.

Dean wandered over, ignoring the glares from the other two as he peered at a drawing. "Hey," he said quietly. "Frank's wife."

Alex peered over her shoulder. "The plot is thickening as we speak," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Great."

Dean grabbed the drawing - and then froze when various machines around them cranked into life, roaring loudly in their ears. Alex flinched, but didn't move. Her blue eyes darted around until she saw something standing a corner. A large man stood there, his eyes glaring at them. Dean spun around to look when Sam pressed his lips together, staring at it.

Alex lifted her gun to shoot just as Sam groaned, "Really, Dean?"

She spared a look back and snorted. Dean was sprinting out of the mill as fast as his legs could carry him. Sam fired off a round of rock salt at the ghost that had appeared and then jogged after his brother. Alex kept close to him, not daring to be alone in the mill at the moment. One wrong trip and you'd be dead with all of the machinery around. Particularly while it was running.

When they caught up with him, Dean was draining a flask of whiskey and looking for another. Sam glanced over at Alex, who shook her head. "Guess we got the right place."

She snorted. "You think?"

* * *

Sam eyed Alex and Dean warily as Alex adjusted the shirt she wore. It was a professional white blouse, and her hair had been swept back out of her face into a ponytail, showing off the scar on her face. She didn't bother trying to cover it up; it wouldn't work. She'd tried.

"Are you _sure_ you've got this?" Sam asked Dean, who grinned.

"Damn sure," he promised. Despite his confident words, Alex could see the nervous tapping of a finger on his thigh, the way his green eyes would dart this way and that on occasion. He shifted his weight every five seconds.

Quite frankly, it was more annoying than she was willing to put up with, but she forced herself to put up with it anyways.

"I'll be right outside if you need me," he told them. "I'll keep the car started for if we need to make a quick getaway. Alex, if he starts having a moment-"

"I'll handle it," Alex cut him off. "It won't be that hard. I'm stronger than I look, even if you two fools are who knows how many stones." Sam blinked at her with a confused expression and she sighed. "Weight. You're heavy."

Dean made a nervous sound. "Can we get a move on before I chicken out?"

Alex grinned. "Do you want to stay while Sam and I go in?"

He shook his head hastily. "And stay here alone, where demons could show up? Hell no."

"...I'm ready for old Dean," Sam told her. "Hurry up."

"Will do, Sammy." Alex winked and then made her way inside, searching her pockets for her fake badge. Dean kept up with fidgeting hands. She sighed heavily when a resident stepped into Dean by accident and the man jumped, gasping.

"This isn't gonna work," Dean said suddenly, fretting. "Come on, Alex these badges are fake! What if we get busted?" His voice rose in panic. "We could go to jail-"

"Winchester!" Alex hissed. "Shut up, you bloody idiot!" Forcing herself to create a gentle tone, Alex touched his arm. He flinched. "Calm down. Deep breaths, Dean, okay?" He did as she instructed and she soothed, "There you are...feel better?"

"No," he admitted, shivering.

She pressed her lips together. "Okay, let's just get this over with. Don't scratch," she added when he began to. He quickly stopped and she knocked on a door. They were told to enter.

Alex stepped in first with Dean close behind her. She flashed a quick smile, aware of how the eyes that darted to her scar first. Ignoring it, she introduced herself. "Hullo. I'm Agent Tyler. This is Agent Perry. FBI. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your brother? Luther?"

"...Garland." The man stared for a good while. Finally he demanded, dark eyes wary, "Let me see some ID." Alex handed over her fake badge and elbowed Dean. He did the same. "I didn't think they let foreigners into the FBI…"

"Surprise," was all Alex said.

As the brother of Luther Garland studied their fake badges, Dean suddenly spoke up, making Alex want to whack him over the head. "Those are real, obviously. I mean...who would pretend to be an FBI agent? That's just nutty!"

Garland stared at him and then said slowly, "What do you want to know?"

"Well…" Alex planted her hands on her hips. "According to a file we have, your brother Luther died of physical trauma?" He scoffed, curling a lip in disgust. "You don't agree."

"No. Doesn't matter what an old man thinks, though."

"Mr. Garland," Alex said gently. "We're just trying to get the truth on your brother. Please."

Garland sighed after a moment. "Everyone was scared of Luther. Called him a monster. He was too big...too mean-looking. Just...too different, I suppose. Didn't matter that he was the kindest man I ever knew. Didn't matter he'd never hurt no one." Garland's eyes flashed angrily. "A lot of people failed Luther. I was one of 'em. I was a widower with three young 'uns at the time. Can ya blame me? I told myself there was nothing I could do."

Alex clicked her tongue sympathetically. "I feel for him," she said honestly. Skinwalkers were seen as monsters, after all. At least there was reason behind that. Most of them were. "Do you recognize this woman?" Alex slid him a picture of Jessie O'Brien.

"Jessie O'Brien," Garland confirmed. "Her man, Frank? He killed Luther." Alex arched a brow questioningly. "Everybody knows. They just don't talk about it."

"Would you talk about it?" Dean asked, surprisingly helpful.

Garland nodded. "Jessie was a receptionist at the mill Luther worked at. She was one of the few being nice to him. Real nice. He had a crush on her...but...Frank hated it. When Jessie went missing, Frank was sure that he'd done somethin' to her. Turns out that the old gal killed herself, but Frank didn't know that at the time." He trailed off, shuddering. "They found my brother with a chain wrapped around his neck. He was dragged up and down the stretch outside the mill."

Dean grimaced and hid another shiver. Alex silently praised him. "He was never arrested?"

Garland gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "I screamed it to every cop in town, but do you think they listened? Didn't want to look into him. He was a pillar of the community. My brother was just the town freak."

Alex nodded slightly. "You must have hated him."

"I did for a long time," Garland admitted. "Life's too short for hate though, hon. Frank wasn't thinking straight...his wife had vanished. He was terrified. A damn shame he had to put my brother through the same. But...that's fear. It spreads and spreads."

"And it doesn't stop when it catches," Alex said softly. Garland studied her with a slight look of respect, as if appreciating what she'd said.

They finished up quickly - Alex didn't want to risk Dean ruining the disguise - and then left. They paced the halls quickly until they reached the doors. When they got outside, she heard Dean groan in relief.

Sam was waiting in the Impala for them. "Get anything?" he said hopefully.

"We know what these are," Dean told them, touching his scratched arms. Alex grimaced at the sight of the bloodied flesh. He'd itched them to the point of bleeding. "Road rash."

"What?"

Alex explained what had happened to Luther and then frowned. "I suppose Luther must have swallowed some woodchips, no?"

"Makes sense," Sam agreed. He turned his worried dark eyes on Dean, who was rubbing his wrists cautiously. "You're experiencing his death in slow motion, Dean."

"Yeah, well," Dean said with a barked laugh. "Not slow enough. Say...let's go burn some bones and get me healthy?" He beamed like a child. His smile fell a moment later when Sam spoke.

"Dean...it won't be that easy," he said gently, exchanging a look with Alex when Dean began to panic, demanding answers on why it wouldn't be. "Luther was road-hauled. If what you guys say is true, his body was ripped to pieces. He was probably scattered all over the place. There's no way we're gonna find all the remains."

"You're kidding me," Dean said, blanching.

Alex reached out to poke his arm, attempting to calm him as she said, "We'll just have to figure something else out-"

"You know what?" Dean interrupted. He yanked the keys of the Impala from his pocket and threw them at Sam. Sam swore when they smacked him in the head. "I'm done. I mean, come on! What the hell are we _doing_?"

"We're hunting a ghost," Alex said bluntly, rolling her eyes.

"A _ghost_!" he cried. "Exactly! Who does that?"

"Us?" Sam offered.

"Right!" Dean began to pace, throwing his hands in the air. "And that, Sam, is why our lives suck! I mean...come on, we hunt monsters! What the hell?! I mean, normal people? They see a monster and they run! But no. Not us! No, no, no, we….we search out the monsters! The ones that want to kill us! You know who does that?"

"Us?" Alex echoed Sam's comment without hesitation, looking annoyed with his sudden speech. "Are you having a midlife crisis, Dean?"

"Crazy people!" he snapped. "We are insane! You know, there's the bad diner food and skeevy motel rooms, too! The truck-stop waitresses with the bizarre rashes. Who wants this life, Sam? Seriously? What about you?" He rounded on Alex, who put her hands up in surrender. "Do you actually enjoy being shoved in a car with us eight hours a day every single day? I don't think so!"

"At least you aren't bad in the face," she muttered, sighing.

"I drive too fast and I listen to the same five albums over and over! I sing along, too! I'm annoying, I know that! And...and you get fur all over my seats, and Sam turns toxic when eats burritos! Forget it. I'm done." Dean stormed away, shaking his head.

"Dean," Sam said, climbing out of the Impala to try and chase after him.

"Stay the hell away from me, Sam!" Dean called over his shoulder. "I'm done with it. I'm done with the monsters a-and the hellhounds, and the ghost sickness...I'm done with the goddamn apocalypse. I'm out. Done. Quitting. See ya."

And then he strode off, leaving the two other hunters to stare after him.

* * *

"Bobby!" Alex greeted eagerly when the older hunter climbed out of his car. The skinwalker sidled over to stand beside him, eyes sparkling. Sam echoed her greeting and Bobby rolled his eyes, eyeing the lumber mill they'd parked in front of.

"Howdy. Where's Dean?" Bobby sighed.

Sam made a face. "You don't want to know, Bobby."

"So...have any hallucinations started yet?" Bobby questioned, slipping into a serious work mode.

Alex nodded. "Mhm," she hummed. "A few hours ago...I caught him being chased by what he called a hellhound. He was literally pressed up against a fence trying to escape a Yorkshire Terrier."

Bobby looked somewhat amused. "How we doing on time, Sam?"

Sam scrubbed a hand down his face. "We saw the coroner about eight in the morning on Monday, so...just under two hours? What about you? Did you find anything?"

"This encyclopedia of spirits dates back to the Edo period," Bobby reported, handing a book to Sam. Alex came to look over his shoulder at it. Well, she attempted to look. It was more of Sam awkwardly shifting to show her what was in the book.

"...you can read Japanese?" Sam said slowly.

Bobby looked him dead in the eye and retorted, "Shonen wa, watashinojikan o muda ni shinaide kudasai."

"...got it." Sam muttered, scoffing. "Show off. What's in the book?"

"Different things, but I might have found what we're looking at." Bobby waved at the marked page and Alex snatched the book from him. She flipped the pages until she found the marked one and studied the picture. She looked to Bobby for an explanation and he flashed her a kind look before telling them, "The book lists a kind that could be our guy. A ghost that, uh, infects people with fear. It's known as a Buruburu. Says we gotta burn the remains."

"...what's Plan B?" Sam demanded.

"Well, it's born of fear. Hell," Bobby snorted, "It is fear. The lore says we can either burn the remains or we can kill it with fear."

"...we have to scare a ghost to death?" Alex said slowly and Bobby gave a curt nod. "How the bloody hell are we going to do that?"

* * *

"So...you're going to have to trust me on this, but we've got a plan."

Alex grimaced as she said this, glancing over her shoulder at where Bobby and Sam were setting up. Both were serious, working quickly after telling her to call and let Dean know they were doing something.

"Wait," Dean demanded, "What's the plan?"

"...trust me, it's a plan," Alex said bluntly.

"That's not too reassuring, Alex!"

"You're going to be fine," Alex sighed, biting her lip. "It's a really, really good plan, okay? Goodbye." She hung up and then looked back at the men. "This," she declared. "Is the worst plan you blokes have ever come up with."

"Tell me about it," Sam said darkly. He glanced over at Alex. "Ready?"

"Whenever you are," she hummed, yanking a pistol out of her belt and readying her blade in the other hand. She twirled it once. Sam checked the chains they'd connected to the back of Bobby's truck and then gave her a thumbs up.

"Send the skinwalker in, why don't we," Alex muttered under her breath as she slid into the mill. "Not yourself, but the one who you've already endangered fifty gazillion times!" Yet she searched the mill, the walkie talkie at her hip crackling to life after a few more minutes.

"Any luck, Alex?"

"No, Bobby, nothing." Alex lowered her weapons. "It's like he's scared to come out…"

"Hold on, I'm coming in," Sam told her. A moment later, he jogged inside, a chain in his hand. "We'll have to make him angry...here, help me with this." He led her over to the drawings that Luther had kept and lifted one. His gaze darted around and then he ripped it in half, throwing the pieces over his shoulder. Alex caught on and set her blade down for a moment, joining in.

"Come on, Luther!" she shouted, ripping a drawing of a box of kittens into pieces. "Where the bloody hell are you? What are you waiting for?!" She ripped another one, and then yelped when she caught sight of Luther's reflection in the window.

Sam whipped around in time for a fist to slam into his jaw. He grimaced in pain and attempted to wrap the chain he'd grabbed around Luther, coming away unsuccessfully. Alex jumped in, clinging to the ghost's arm so that he had to fend off Sam with one, and she gasped in pain when she was slammed into a wall as hard as the spirit could manage.

It was through some sort of miracle that Sam got the chain around Luther's neck. He snatched the walkie talkie from Alex's belt as she was shoved into him, catching her gently by the shoulder as he shouted into it, "Drive, Bobby, drive!"

They heard the roar of the truck's engine just a second before Luther was yanked off of his feet. He screamed as he was hauled across the floor of the mill and out the doors. His screams faded away and Alex puffed out a breath, her blue eyes wide as she gasped, "Well that'll do it."

"Hopefully," Sam muttered in response.

* * *

Alex hissed in a breath as she eased herself onto the opened bed of Bobby's truck. Her entire back throbbed in agonizing pain that she knew would fade away after a few hours. Unlike Sam's black eye, which would last who knew how long. Dean leaned on the side of the truck, glaring up at her. "So you road-hauled a ghost with a chain?"

From where he was undoing the chain in the back of the truck, Sam called tiredly, "Iron chain, Dean. Etched with spellwork. Thank Bobby for that."

"New one," Dean commented.

"It was what scared him most," Alex said quietly. Her eyes were sympathetic as she narrowed them at Dean. "I'm sure he wouldn't have done such things had he been alive. He seemed like a good person...it was brutal."

"...I'm alive on the upside!" Dean said cheerfully, looking uncomfortable about what she'd said. "So, uh, go team!"

"How are you feeling by the way?" Sam asked him, handing the chain to Bobby.

"Fine."

Bobby exchanged a sly grin with Alex. "You sure, Dean? 'Cause this line of work can get awful scary…"

Dean scowled. "I'm fine," he insisted, throwing his hands up and glaring at him. "You wanna go hunting? Give me a gun. I'll hunt. I'll kill whatever you want me to kill."

"Aw," Bobby cooed, making Alex giggle hysterically. "He's adorable. I gotta get out of here. Drive safe." He let Alex hop down and give him a hug before he climbed into the driver's seat and drove off. Standing beside them, Sam planted his hands on his hips, asking what Dean had seen.

"Besides a cop beating my ass?" Dean paused, studying the scratches on his wrist. He glanced up, watching them. Both were aware that Dean had gone through a rough patch while they were dealing with the ghost. It hadn't been pleasant if the exhaustion on his face was anything to go by. "Howler monkeys. Whole roomful of 'em. Those bastards creep the hell out of me." Sam snorted and Alex gave him a long look. "No, just the usual stuff, Sammy. Nothing I can't handle."

As he climbed in the Impala, ready to drive, Alex shook her head.

Never before had she smelt a bigger lie.

* * *

 _Maybe my favorite episode in the entire show. Between this, the dog episode in season ten, and the musical episode... I love it. I'm going to try and update this more often. TRY being the key word there. I've been working with various ideas for the finale of season four and five and maybe even doing something with Avery, who we'll soon find more about. We'll see. ;)_

 _Thanks to reviewers (MaybeALittleBroken and Random2Friends!) and those who favorited and followed!_


	19. The Summoning of Samhain

**| October 30th, 2008|**

"So...how many razor blades did they find?"

Alex wandered around the kitchen absentmindedly, aware that the teary-eyed Mrs. Wallace was anything but pleased with the fact that a dog was in her perfectly clean kitchen. Well, it was clean outside of blood left over from her husband's death.

The skinwalker grimaced at the idea of razor blades being swallowed and suddenly looked expectantly up at Dean. He opened the oven for her.

"Two on the floor," Mrs. Wallace sniffed, "One in his stomach. One was stuck in his throat. He swallowed...he swallowed four of them. How is that even possible?" She paused when Dean let Alex shove her head in the oven. "The candy was never in the oven."

Dean paused, green eyes snapping to Alex's for a moment. And then he said smoothly, "We just have to be thorough, Mrs. Wallace."

"Did the police find any razors in the rest of the candy?" Sam cut in.

"No...I don't think so." The tears boiled over and she gave a loud sob. "I can't...I can't believe it! You hear urban legends about this...but I can't believe it really happens?"

Alex retracted her head to let Dean close the oven and then dropped her head to inhale beneath the oven. She froze, tensed, and then snapped her gaze up to Dean's, rumbling low in her chest. He glanced down at her and she pawed lightly at the space beneath the oven, her ears flicking back.

Dean narrowed his eyes and knelt beside her. "Move," he ordered quietly, pushing her aside. Alex stepped back, her fur fluffed up as Dean reached around beneath the stove. He made careful movements, not wanting to hurt himself, and finally tugged out a hex bag. He eyed it with disgust in his eyes and Alex curled her lips.

Sam's gaze darted over when Dean stood, grabbing the leash connected to Alex's harness with a careful hand. Keeping it out of Mrs. Wallace's view, Dean held it up.

Sam sighed heavily and asked, "Mrs. Wallace, did your husband have any enemies?"

"Enemies?" she echoed, startled. "What do you mean?"

"Anyone who might have held a grudge against him," Dean explained, shoving the hex bag into his pocket to burn later. He and Alex moved to stand beside Sam. "Co-workers, neighbors? Maybe a woman?"

She scowled, immediately offended. "Are you suggesting an affair?"

"No, no, we're just asking if it's possible," Sam said hastily, glaring at Dean. Dean didn't look too concerned. "Is it?"

Flustered, she snapped, "No! No, Luke would _never_ -"

"I'm sorry," Sam cut in, sympathetic. "We just have to consider all possibilities, Mrs. Wallace."

She narrowed her gaze at them. "If someone wanted to kill my Luke, don't you think they _might_ have found a better way than a razor in a piece of candy he _might_ eat?"

"I guess," Sam admitted. "Again, we're sorry about your loss, Mrs. Wallace. We'll do our best to figure this out."

She sniffed and despite understanding her grief, Alex wanted to smack the other woman over the head.

* * *

"Are you...seriously, Winchester? Even after that man choked on the razor blades?"

Dean paused mid-chew after tossing a piece of candy into his mouth. Cheeks puffed up like some kind of chipmunk, he managed to get out, "It's Halloween."

Alex's face twisted into a more of a grimace than it usually was and snatched the laptop from Sam's lap. He glared, but reached for a book that was spread out on the coffee table. Flipping through the pages, he muttered, "Everyday is Halloween for us."

Dean perched on the edge of the couch by his brother and looked down at some notes that Sam had taken. "So...don't be a downer. Anything good?"

"Witch," Alex reported. "Definitely a witch."

"It's not your typical witch, and that's not a typical hex bag." Sam gestured to the hex bag that he'd splayed out on the coffee table beside a book. He and Dean leaned over so that Sam could explain it to him, and Alex peeked over the laptop screen to pay attention. "This," Sam began, holding up a dried up plant, "Is Goldthread."

"And...your point?" Dean questioned, scoffing. "It's a plant. What makes it any different?"

"It's been extinct for two hundred years," Alex said bluntly. "It's an herb."

Now Dean was paying attention. Sam gestured to a silver piece. "Celtic. Checked with Alex and she said that it's definitely Celtic. This is the real-deal, Dean. Like...six hundred years old real."

"What's this?" Dean asked, holding up something small and charred.

Alex froze, fingers on the keys.

"Uh...that's the charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby," Sam admitted and the horrified look on Dean's face was enough to make Alex smile a little. He dropped it, wiping his hand on his jeans. "Relax, it's like a hundred years old at least."

"And that makes it better? Blegh." Dean scrubbed his hand a bit harder and then scowled, his green eyes annoyed. "Witches, man. They're...they're so friggin' skeevy."

"The point is," Alex cut in, amused. "It takes a pretty powerful witch to do something like this. I don't know about you two, but this is far more powerful than anything I've ever dealt with. Did you find anything on the victim, Winchester?"

"Luke Wallace?" Dean snorted. "He's so vanilla that he made vanilla seem spicy."

Sam sighed heavily, bothered by their lack of leads, and Dean shook his head. "I can't find any reason why someone would want this guy dead, to be honest."

"We'll find one," Alex said firmly and then set the laptop aside. She stretched her arms above her head and then rolled her shoulders, cracking her neck. "I'm going to run and take a nice warm shower...why don't you morons keep at the research or check out some of Luke Wallace's friends?"

"We might get more out of the friends," Sam admitted, standing.

"We'll head out then. You gonna be good here?" Dean asked her, and Alex gave him a look of surprise.

"Since when did you care if I was alright or not?" she demanded, but shrugged. "I'll be fine. Have fun, boys." She wiggled her fingers, winked an icy eye, and then strode over to the bathroom, grabbing her bag on the way over. Dean eyed her from behind as Sam nudged him towards the front door.

"Dude," Sam said with a huff.

"Sorry," Dean muttered, turning his attention on what was probably more important. Sam rolled his eyes and then they were out the door.

After her shower, Alex wandered around the room, picking up a little. Aware of the chilly weather, she'd dressed in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that would help cover up her scars. The towel was thrown over her shoulders to keep her back dry. After she'd finished, the skinwalker made her way over to the couch.

She was just preparing to sit down when the fluttering of wings filled her ears. Stiffening, Alex whirled around, a growl on her lips. It escaped her when she recognized who stood before her.

It was the angel that she'd met in England. His green eyes narrowed a fraction at her growl. "Alex."

At least he paid attention to her wishes about her name.

"I'd greet you by name, too," Alex muttered, "But you're nameless right now."

"With good reason, though I suppose I should give you my name to be polite." The angel tilted his head a fraction. "Where are the Winchesters? Has Castiel stopped by recently?"

She shook her head. "No? And out talking to some friends of a murdered man. Witch," she added when his gaze darted to the opened hex bag on the table. His gaze filled with alarm. "What? Do you know something?"

"No," he said a bit too hastily.

"Liar," Alex accused, baring her teeth. Furious, she dropped onto the couch and grabbed the laptop. "That's all you angels do. Lie and pretend that you know so much. You create riddles and call people things without an explanation. You're all fakes."

The angel lifted his chin proudly. "We are higher beings. Why should we reveal anything to humans and creatures like yourself?"

Alex tried to contain her temper. "Because we are not playthings and I would really like to see if my blade can kill a bloody angel."

The angel scoffed and then turned his piercing eyes away. Alex felt as if she'd won, however. Particularly when he declared, "I am the angel Barachiel."

"Note to self," Alex muttered, glancing over her shoulder at Barachiel. "Insult an angel and accuse them of various things and they'll spill information for you." She smirked at the scowl that crossed his face. "On the other hand...what the bloody hell does an angel want right now?"

Barachiel's eyes darted to the opened hex bag. "I can somewhat be considered a guardian angel." His lips twitched as if he found that amusing. "And I can feel that you are in danger here. Castiel holds a temporary power over the angels he is working over. That power is dwindling with every mistake he makes in regards to Sam and Dean Winchester, you must understand."

"Your point?" Alex clicked on the browser, pulling up the internet.

"A seal resides here - you are not too repeat any of this, may I add. A powerful witch is at work. You have very little time to correct this before other angels step in and smite the entire town."

Alex tensed, pausing mid-type. "Excuse me? You're going to kill a bunch of people because Castiel can't do his job?!"

"Something like that." Barachiel tilted his head suddenly. "As a soldier, we expect you to push through and help Dean Winchester make the right choices on the matter. That is the only reason I am revealing such valuable information. Good luck. Also...you may want to call upon the Winchesters. A girl just drowned in a tub while attempting some sort of game."

And then he was gone.

Alex found herself left with only Barachiel's name in the google search bar and the irritation in her heart. The skinwalker stared at the screen, her eyes narrowed. And then she slammed the laptop shut and climbed to her feet, reaching for her phone.

 _Goddamn angels._

* * *

"I'm telling you," Dean said that evening as they sat in the motel room, going through various resources. Sam had let Alex steal his laptop as he and Dean went over various books. "These vics are squeaky clean...no reason for a wicked bitch payback."

"Maybe it's not about that," Alex said slowly, choosing her words carefully.

After finding a hex bag at the scene of the girl's death, she'd chosen to trust that Barachiel's warning was true. She'd decided to refrain from informing the other two about the matter, not wanting to upset the angel.

Dean shot her a curious look about her comment, and she grimaced, explaining, "Maybe the witch is working a spell instead?"

"She might be right," Sam said and Alex puffed a breath in relief. He waved them over and both abandoned what they were doing to look over his shoulder. "Three blood sacrifices over three days. The last before midnight of the final day of the final harvest. It's the Celtic version of the calendar, so the final day of the final harvest would be-"

"Halloween," Dean finished. He studied the page and then lifted his eyes to Sam's. "What exactly are the blood sacrifices _for_?"

"Samhain," Alex breathed, eyes scanning over the words. Her face paled. "The witch is summoning Samhain." The pair of Winchesters glanced at her. Sam wore an understanding look; Dean looked unimpressed as he arched an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. "Samhain...he's the origin of the holiday Halloween. The Celts believe that the last day of October was the none night of the year when the veil was thinnest. The veil between the living and the dead, anyways. It was Samhain's night."

"Masks were put on to hide from him, sweets left on doorsteps to appease him, faces carved into pumpkins to worship him," Sam continued for her. "Everything Halloween like descends from traditions set out to fend him off. He was exorcised centuries ago though."

"So...instead of demons and blood orgies, Halloween is all about kids, candy, and costumes," Dean said. Alex gave him a look of disgust for the comparison. "What? Anyways. Some witch wants to raise Samhain and take back the night?"

"This is serious, Dean," Sam said darkly. "We're talking heavyweight witchcraft. This ritual can only be performed every six hundred years."

"And that six hundred year marker rolls around…"

"Tomorrow night," Alex murmured.

"Of course it's while we're alive," Dean sighed. He lowered his eyes to the book Sam had been scanning through after snatching it from his brother's hands. He flipped a page to look at some illustrations and swore under his breath as he found himself staring at an image of a demon crouched on a pile of bloodied bodies, holding a decapitated head. "...that's a lot of death and destruction for one demon."

Alex rolled her eyes as Sam told him, "That's because Samhain likes company, Dean. Once he's raised, Samhain can do some raising of his own. The people he raises are dark and evil. They follow him around like...like…"

"The Pied Piper," Alex offered, and Sam waved at her in agreement.

"Ghosts," Dean realized. "Zombies. Leprechauns?"

They both stared blankly at him. "Are you serious, Winchester?" Alex finally said, annoyed with his lack of seriousness about the matter.

"Those little dudes are scary," he defended. "Small hands."

"Look," Sam sighed. "It just starts with ghosts and ghouls. But he keeps going and by night's end, we're seeing every awful thing that we can imagine."

"Imagine everything hunters are up against," Alex said softly, aware that she was one of those things. "All in one place."

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face and tossed the book onto the nearby couch. Lifting his gaze tiredly, he gave a wry smile. "It'll be a slaughterhouse."

* * *

The chomping of teeth as Dean ate candy was grating at Alex's nerves. She wanted to reach over and smack his head on the wheel of the Impala, but she refrained from doing so with only the sliver of self-control she had left in her. "Do you _have_ to be this annoying?" she gritted out with a glare.

He flashed her a smirk, popping a Milky Way into his mouth after plucking it from the bag of candy in his lap. "Sorry, sweetheart, it's what I'm best at."

Alex rolled her eyes and went back to scrolling through her phone for information. She'd been researching Barachiel since the day before, but every time she typed in his name - whether it be through her phone, Sam's laptop, or even Sam's stolen phone - it came up blank.

She supposed that could be the work of the angel himself.

Dean's phone going off startled her into dropping her own. Dean grinned, but picked up as she scowled. "Hey, Sammy."

"How's it going?" Alex heard the other Winchester ask.

Dean waved for Alex to watch the Wallace household as he sat back to discuss findings with his brother. Alex leaned forward, propping her elbow on the dashboard and her chin on her palm. Her blue eyes zoned in on the house. "Awesome. Talked with Mrs. Razor Blade again." Dean's gaze flickered to Alex. "Nothing. And nothing from sitting out front for hours either."

"Someone planted those hex bags," Sam said patiently. Alex gave him credit; she couldn't keep that much patience when it came to Dean Winchester. "There's gotta be some connection, a person who has access to both houses."

"Yeah, well," Dean muttered, "I hope we find 'em soon, 'cause -"

Alex let loose a growl, practically throwing herself at Dean. He grunted when she shoved his head down and ducked her own. "What the friggin' _hell_ are you doing, mutt?!"

"Dean? Alex?" Sam called over Dean's dropped phone.

Alex waited until footsteps had faded a little, and then moved back. "Look," she said in a low voice, gesturing out the window. Dean glared and then peered out himself.

"Son of a bitch!" he muttered as he watched a girl that he'd interviewed over the second death sidle up to the Wallace house and knock the door. "That goddamn-"

"Slag," Alex finished furiously. She remembered the friend of the dead girl - Tracy was her name - telling Dean that she knew nothing about one Luke Wallace. Her eyes sharpened hatefully. "That bloody slag."

"Hello?" Sam tried again from the floor of the Impala.

"What does that even mean?" Dean demanded, bewildered.

"Whore," Alex informed it. "Slut. Means several derogatory names that the bitch has earned herself." Ignoring the delighted look on Dean's face at this information, Alex leaned down and plucked his phone off the floor. She put it on speaker. "Sorry, Sam. That cheerleader from last night just walked into the Wallace house."

"Tracy?" Sam questioned, surprised.

"Mhm," she confirmed, watching as Mrs. Wallace welcomed Tracey inside, the baby in her arms giggling. Alex studied the child before quickly looking elsewhere, pressing her lips together. "Babysitter, I believe."

"She told me she'd never heard of Luke Wallace," Dean complained. "Damn. Why the hell does the old hag have to choose a hot cheerleader to come back in?"

"You're disgusting, you bloody wanker," Alex told him.

"I'm _not_ a dick," Dean muttered, scowling and still sore over the ghost illness he'd been forced to deal with the previous week. "We've been over this, puppy."

"Hold on," Sam's muffled voice said. "I'm doing some digging."

It was quite some time before Sam spoke again, and in that time, Alex and Dean had started up a war of who could glare at each other the longest. So far, Alex was winning, and she was more than proud about it.

"She's not as wholesome as she looks," Sam said finally. "She got into a violent altercation with one of her teachers and got suspended from school. Her name's Tracy Davis, daughter of Jerome Walker and Mary Jane Kanoli Davis-"

" _Kanoli_?" Dean snickered.

"She's a junior in high school and she lives at 27 Lirewenshire Lane," Sam continued as if his brother had said nothing. "If you want to run over and take a look at the school-"

"We can do that," Alex cut him off, nodding thoughtfully to herself. "Right, Winchester?"

"Sure," Dean muttered, rubbing a watering eye. "No problem. Let's go."

"Good. See ya later." Sam hung up after that and Alex handed Dean his phone. He tucked it safely into a pocket.

"You don't think he's running around with demons again, do you?" Alex asked quietly. He cast her a startled look, shocked she'd ask.

"No," Dean said firmly, starting the Impala. "No way in hell. He's fine. I trust him."

Alex silently declared him a liar.

* * *

 **|October 31st, 2008|**

"What the bloody hell is this even supposed to be?"

Alex stared at the mask before her, making a face. She was more than aware of the haunted look on Dean's face, recognizing that he wasn't remembering something pleasant. She had moments like that, too.

"You good, Winchester?" Alex asked quietly.

"Yeah," he said gruffly. "Fine."

After a night of sleep, they were back in action and ready to deal with the witch ordeal. Sam had stayed behind, but Alex and Dean had been equally as determined to go and had reluctantly agreed to a truce for the time being.

"You two wanted to talk to me?"

They looked over and discovered a man standing there. He offered a friendly smile and Alex gave him one in return, shaking his hand. "Hullo, Mr. Harding," she said, drawing up her accent.

"Oh, please," he said hastily, "Don. Even my students call me Don."

Dean eyed Alex suspiciously before shaking Don's hand as well. He was suspicious when Alex's accent wasn't questioned, but chose not to mention it aloud as they showed him their badges. "I'm agent Getty, this is Agent Lee. We just had a few questions about Miss Tracy Davis."

"Tracy," Don sighed, "Bright kid, loads of talent. It's a shame she got suspended."

"Didn't you two have a violent altercation?" Alex asked.

"Yeah. She exploded." He grimaced. "If Principal Murrow hadn't walked by when he did, Tracy would have clawed my eyes out." Dean questioned why and Don made another unhappy face. "I was only trying to rap with her about her work. It had gotten...inappropriate. It was disturbing."

"More disturbing than, uh, those guys?" Dean remarked, gesturing to the masks that hung around them.

Don smiled a fraction and then went serious again. "She would cover page after page with these...cryptic symbols and then were there were the drawings." He shuddered. "Detailed images of killings. Gory and primitive. She would depict herself in the middle of them."

"Symbols?" Alex asked politely. "Could you tell us if any of them looked something like this?" She pulled up a Celtic coin on her phone and offered it to him. Don confirmed that it had been one of them. "Do you know where she is now?"

"Her apartment, I would imagine. She got here about a year ago, alone. I believe she is an emancipated teen." Don gave a grim smile. "God only knows what her parents were like."

Dean muttered his agreement. They bid Don farewell quickly after that - Don looked a little too disappointed to say goodbye to Alex for either of their liking - and as they walked to the Impala, Alex fell silent.

"You know, Winchester," she suddenly said seriously, glancing at him. "If you ever want to talk-"

"I'm not doing therapy with you," Dean said irritably, cutting her off. "I'm fine, Alex."

"No, you're not," she retorted. "Nobody is when they've gone to Hell."

"How the hell would you know?" he said bitterly.

"I got close enough," Alex said simply and then swung into the car. The car ride was silent and ended up being quite short much to Alex's relief. They picked Sam up from a gas station he'd walked to to buy some food and as they drove to the motel room, Alex swung around in the passenger seat to look at Sam. "We've honestly got nothing on Tracy, Sam. Did you see anything while you were out?"

"No." Sam shook his head and took a deep breath. "But I'm sure we'll find something eventually."

"So you think. Luck's kinda against us, Sammy," Dean commented as he pulled the car into the parking lot of the motel. "Her friends don't even know where she is." He made a face and turned the engine off. "It's like the bitch popped a broomstick."

Alex looked bewildered as she hopped out of the vehicle. "How...Dean, what does that even mean?"  
"I don't know," Sam replied when she turned an expectant look on him. He climbed out, too, and together, the trio of hunters made their way to the motel room they'd rented out. Sam raked a hand through his hair as they walked. "She could be making the third sacrifice at any time…"

"Yes, thank you for the reminder, Sam," Dean said sarcastically. He paused when a kid dressed as an astronaut. The kid stated the customary "trick or treat" phrase and he huffed. "This is a motel."

"So?" the child demanded.

"So we don't have any candy," Dean retorted, rolling his eyes.

Sam blinked and gestured towards the Impala. "No, Dean, we have a ton in the-"

"We did, but it's gone," Dean interrupted.

Alex gave the boy an apologetic look. "Sorry, little one, our friend is a bit of a blimp."

The kid stared blankly at her and then scoffed and shoved past Dean. Dean held his hands up in surrender when the kid shoved him hard enough to make him stagger - Alex cackled, because who wouldn't laugh when a man who was practically made of solid muscle was pushed by a child?

Sam shook his head at their antics and then unlocked the motel room. He stepped inside, and then immediately drew his gun with a scowl, shouting, "Who are you?!"

Alex's head snapped up and Dean shoved past his brother to see what was going on. Alex dove for the gun. "Don't!" Dean ordered as Alex tried to shove Sam's arms and get the gun down. "Sam, that's Castiel!"

Sam narrowed his eyes, stiffening. But then he put his gun down, eyeing the angel that was seated patiently on the bed. Another man stood at the window, watching them coldly. "Him, I don't know," Dean added, frowning at him.

A look of amazement spread across Sam's face when Castiel said slowly, gaze flickering from Alex to Dean to Sam. "Hello, Sam."

Sam eagerly stepped forward to do a greeting, but Alex nudged her way in front of him, doubting that Sam would get a warm greeting after everything that had happened. She was proven right when Castiel continued, saying, "The boy with the demon blood. We appreciate that you've ceased your extracurricular activities."  
The angel at the window narrowed his eyes at them and spoke. "Let's keep it that way."

"Okay, chuckles, whatever you say," Dean muttered, already disliking the newcomer. He turned to Castiel. "Who's your friend?"

"Uriel," Castiel said curtly. "The raising of Samhain. Have you stopped it?"

"Why?" Dean was confused, and Castiel hastily clarified.

"Have you located the witch? Is she dead?"

Already sensing that the conversation wouldn't be pleasant and having an idea as to why they were there, Alex said quietly, "The witch was identified. She's not dead quite yet."

Castiel frowned in disapproval and stood. He took a few steps to a bedside table and held up a hex bag. Alex's eyes snapped wide. "The witch knows who you are, too. This was inside the wall of your room. If we hadn't found it, surely one or both of you would be dead. Do you know where the witch is now?"

Alex's lips parted. "Do you think we're lying?"

"We're working on it," Dean said, just as annoyed. He glared at Castiel, unhappy. "What do you care anyways?"

Castiel paused. "The raising of Samhain is one of the sixty-six seals," he told them. Alex tensed, recognizing this. Barachiel had warned her of this, and she found herself amazed that he hadn't lied about the matter.

"So this is about your buddy Lucifer." Dean scowled.

Sam silently exchanged a lost look with the equally bothered Alex when Uriel said in his deeply irritated voice, "He is no friend of ours." He narrowed his eyes warningly. "Lucifer cannot rise. The breaking of this seal must be prevented at all costs."

"Then why don't you tell us where the witch is so we can go take care of her?" Alex huffed, glaring at Uriel. She didn't like him one bit.

"We are not omniscient," Castiel admitted. "This witch is very powerful and has cloaked herself from even our methods."

"Okay," Sam began. "Well, we already know who she is, so if we work together, maybe-"

"Enough of this," Uriel growled.

Castiel's expression tightened when Dean demanded to know who the hell Uriel was to be ordering them around. "He is what you might call a specialist."

"What kind of specialist?" Sam questioned hesitantly. "What are you going to do?"

Uncomfortable, Castiel cast a look at Alex. "You...all three of you...need to leave this town. Immediately." She raised her chin defiantly. "We're about to destroy it."

Silence. And then Dean threw his hands in the air, furious, "This is your plan? You're gonna smite the whole friggin' town?!"

"That's not a plan," Alex said hoarsely. _So many people…_

"We're out of time," Castiel replied. His blue eyes glinted unhappily. "This witch has to die and the seal _must_ be saved."

"There...there are a thousand people here, and you're willing to kill all of them?" Sam whispered, just as horrified as the other two hunters.

"This isn't the first time I've purified a city." Uriel didn't seem to look too bothered by this. In fact, he looked a little pleased. "It is a necessity. Too many seals have been broken already."

Sensing the argument coming, Castiel quickly spoke. "It's the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion. You must understand...there's a bigger picture here. Lucifer _cannot_ rise. He does, and Hell rises with him. Is that something that you're willing to risk?"

"We'll stop this witch before she summons anyone," Sam said angrily. "Your seal won't be broken and no one has to die."

Uriel scoffed. "We're wasting time with these mud monkeys." Castiel gave him a look of disapproval for the insult.

"No," Sam said suddenly, shaking his head. "You can't...you can't do this. You're _angels_. Aren't...aren't you supposed to show mercy?"

Alex felt her heart ache for the younger Winchester brother. At the same time, she wanted to laugh. What kind of happy go lucky world had he been living in? Castiel pressed his lips together and she turned her attention on him, recognizing that he hated this, too.

"We have no choice," he said quietly.

"Of course you have a choice!" Dean shouted suddenly, furious. "I mean, come on! You've never questioned some order? What are you both, just a couple of hammers?!"

"Even if you can't understand it, have-"

"Faith?" Alex finished, disgusted. "Who the bloody hell would have faith in you twats?"  
"It comes from Heaven," Castiel said patiently. His eyes narrowed. "That makes it just."

"Must be so nice," Dean said bitterly with a hateful look at the angels. "You're so goddamn sure of yourselves."

"Tell me something," Castiel retorted, his patience seeming to disappear. "When your father gave you an order, didn't you obey?" Dean's face turned murderous, his green eyes glinting with a deadly look.

"Plans change," Alex said. She raised her chin as Uriel's hateful look turned on her.

"What business does a soldier have refusing the commands of those in higher ranks?" Uriel snarled, and she bared her teeth at him. His gaze turned vicious, and the angel took a single step in her direction before Dean suddenly got in his face.

"If you're gonna smite this town?" he said lowly, looking Uriel in the eye. "Then you're gonna smite us with it because we're not leaving. See, you went to the trouble of busting my ass out of Hell. I figure I'm worth something to the man upstairs. So you wanna waste me? Have at it. See how he digs that."

"I will drag you out of here myself," Uriel hissed.

"You'll have to kill me to do that, and then we're back to the same problem. I mean, come on. You're gonna wipe out a whole town for one little witch. Compensating for something?" Dean pulled back and turned his atteition on Castiel, who looked somewhat amused with Dean's attitude. "We can do this. We'll find that witch and we'll stop the summoning."

"Castiel!" Uriel snapped. "I will not let these mong-"

"Enough!" Castiel snapped. Alex jumped. She'd not expected him to lose his composure. Defeated, Castiel turned his gaze on the three of them and narrowed it. "I suggest you move quickly. If you do not succeed soon, we will have no choice."

* * *

"I thought they'd be different," Sam admitted as he swung into the Impala, his dark eyes flashing unhappily.

"Who?" Dean demanded as he started the engine. Alex made herself comfortable in the back seat, silent. Her blue eyes darted between the two. "The angels? I tried to tell you. We both did. They're too righteous. There's nothing more dangerous than some bastard who thinks he's on a holy mission."

"But…." Sam faltered. "This is God? And Heaven? I've been praying to _this_?"

Alex gave him a sympathetic look. "Sorry to break your beliefs, Sam."

"I know you're into the whole God thing," Dean sighed, sitting back. "But just 'cause there's a couple of bad apples doesn't mean the whole barrel is rotten, right? I mean for all we know, God hates these jerks. Don't give up on this stuff. That's all I'm saying. I mean, Babe Ruth was a dick, right? But baseball's still a beautiful game."

"You're comparing," Alex said bluntly. "God and Heaven to a _baseball game_?"

Sam said nothing and began to finger through the hex bag he'd brought with. Dean frowned and turned to face her in his seat. "What the hell is up with the soldier bit that Mr. Chuckles was talkin' about?"

Alex scrubbed a hand down her face. "I don't even know anymore," she sighed. "I'm supposed to follow orders, but no one's explaining, so I'm as lost as you are, Winchester." She glanced at Sam. "Anything?"

"Yeah," Sam said suddenly, holding a charred bone up. Dean recoiled with a look of disgust. "You know how much heat it would take to char a bone like this? A lot. I mean, more than a fire or some kitchen oven."

"Okay, Betty Crocker," Dean said sarcastically. "What does that mean?"

Alex suddenly perked up, her blue eyes lighting with excitement. "I know where we need to go."

* * *

"So Tracy used the kiln to char the bone," Dean demanded as they meandered their way through the darkened high school. Alex trotted ahead of them, fur fluffed up as she led the way. "I don't get why you had to go canine on us, mutt."

Alex paused to give him a glare and then shouldered at a door. Sam opened it for her and she slid in, sniffing. A few sniffs later found her pawing at the desk of Don Harding. She growled under her breath as Sam muttered, "Dean, that hex bag turned up in our room. Not after you talked to Tracy, but-"

"After we talked to the teacher." Understanding dawned on Dean's face as he saw a locked drawer. He knelt beside Alex to look and held his hand out for anything that would work. Sam, understanding, looked around and found a hammer. He pressed it into Dean's hand and with great expertise, he cracked it open.

"Oh, disgusting," Dean sneered as he opened the drawer and revealed a bowl full of bones. One was charred; the others were simply white.

"Children's," Sam said with disgust. "All from children."

"I guess he's not saving them for Alex," Dean muttered, grimacing.

Alex gave him a growl for that.

* * *

It took them quite a while to figure out where the missing suspects had gone. Alex had her nose to the ground for near an hour, and the sky hard turned black by the time she traced Tracy and Don to a darkened house. A couple trick-or-treating children strode past. A girl that stopped was told that they'd try another house before urged on by her mother, who was dressed as a stereotypical witch.

She bared her teeth at the house, head sticking out of the rear windows of the Impala.

"Got it," Sam said, ordering Dean to stop the car. Dean put it in park and shut the car off as Alex shifted into a human form and went to work on tugging some jeans over her hips, completely forgetting underwear in her rush.

Sam averted his gaze.

Dean smirked at the furious skinwalker in the rear view mirror.

"C'mon," Alex demanded, scrambling out of the car without waiting for them. "She's in here. They both are. I can hear someone crying."

They broke in with ease. Sam used a lockpick to get them in without causing too much of a scene and Alex tapped her foot impatiently until he'd pushed the door open. They made their way silently through the dusty house until she stopped them at a basement door. She yanked her blade out of hiding and Dean and Sam both readied pistols.

Alex reared back - and then kicked the door open with a growl. They rushed in just as Don was preparing to slit Tracy's throat. Tied up, Tracy looked terrified, tears in her scared eyes.

Dean fired off his gun without hesitation, hitting Don three times in the back.

"Thanks," Tracy gasped as Sam set to work on untying her. Alex shifted uneasily, her nose wrinkled as she tried to determine the source of every little scent in the room. Tracy snarled in disgust as her hands were freed. "That sick son of a _bitch_. Did you see what he was doing? What he was saying...blegh." A crazed smile suddenly appeared on her face. "How...how sloppy his incantation was," she laughed.

"...bloody hell," Alex snarled, lunging at her with her blade.

A simple wave of Tracy's hand had Alex down, yelping. Sam and Dean moved to raise their guns, but Tracy shouted something and both went down as well, grunting in pain. "My brother was always a little dim," Tracy purred, kneeling beside the dead Don. She scooped up the materials he'd been using. "He was going to make me the final sacrifice, can you believe it? His idea. That honor will go to him now...our master's return is a two man job, you understand. For six hundred years, I had to deal with that pompous son of a bitch. Planning, preparing...ugh. Unbearable."

Alex clenched her jaw, stiffening in pain when another wave wracked through her unresponding body. Tracy drew the blade in her hand and touched it thoughtfully to her lips. "I wanted to rip his face off the whole time."

She slammed the blade into a bullet wound and then carefully put a chalice beneath to catch the blood. She grinned over her shoulder at them. "And you get him with a gun...love it." She climbed to her feet, sidling over to an altar that had been set up on a table. "Back in the day, this was the one day you kept your children inside. Tonight, you'll see what Halloween really is."

Realizing that they were about to be in serious trouble as Tracy began to utter an incantation, Sam scrambled for an idea. His gaze darted this way and that as Tracy stepped up to the altar, eyes glowing. Suddenly, his eyes landed on a pool of blood that had gathered nearby. He beckoned Dean over to it, scrambling with a gasp of pain.

"What are you doing?" Dean moaned quietly as Sam smeared blood over his face.

"Just follow my lead," Sam retorted. His gaze darted to the pained Alex, who was too far away to do the same. His eyes flashed and she pressed her lips together when she met his gaze. Her fingers tightened on her blade.

One blow and she could take Samhain out.

"Alex," Dean rasped. She heard him and he faintly gestured to the blade in her hand. He drew a finger across his arm and recognition lit in her eyes. Slowly, hissing under her breath, Alex drew the blade across her flesh and quickly copied them by smearing her own blood on her face and lying limply where she was.

"My love," they heard Tracy say softly after a few moments.

"You've aged." Alex bit back a shiver at the deep and ancient undertone of the voice. This demon was powerful - far more powerful than anything she'd seen outside of Lilith.

'This face...I can't fool you."

"Your beauty is beyond time…" A snap filled their ears. "Whore," he sneered.

Dean waited until Samhain had stalked past and left, closing the basement behind him to gasp, "What the hell was that, Sam? Ugh. This is almost worse than finding the bones of kids in a hex bag."

"Halloween lore," Sam groaned, rolling onto his back. Alex scampered to her feet, staggering. "People used to wear masks to hide from him, so I gave it a shot."

Dean paused in trying to rub the blood off and glared. "You gave it a shot?!"

Sam shrugged.

* * *

They rushed to clean themselves up a little before leaving the house at a jog. Alex stumbled tiredly, but kept up decently as they hopped into the Impala. "Where the bloody hell are we going to find this arse?" Alex demanded, pressing her lips together as her blue eyes glared.

"Where would you go to raise other dark forces of the night?" Sam uttered.

"The cemetery." Dean quickly started the car and hit the gas.

As he drove, Sam dug around in a duffel bag after reaching over the seat. "So this demon's pretty powerful."

"Your point?" Alex muttered as he passed her a rag. She wiped her face clean and then passed it to Dean, who kept his eyes on the road and cleaned his cheeks.

"Might take more than the usual weapons-"

"Sam," Dean said curtly, tone leaving no room for arguments. "You're not using your psychic...whatever. Don't even think about it. Ruby's knife is enough. The angels said-"

"They're just a bunch of fanatics," Sam protested, but Alex growled low in her throat.

"Believe me, Sam, they're right about this."

"They don't seem to be right about much…"

"Forget about the angels," Dean barked. "You said yourself! These powers...it's like playing with fire." He shoved the hilt of the demon knife into Sam's hands and Sam fumbled it, nearly cutting his fingers. "Please."

Sam said nothing.

Before long, they found themselves descending into a crypt. A group of teenagers screamed at a gate, pleading for help and they paused. "Help them," Sam ordered.

"Dude," Dean snapped, "You're not going off alone-"

"He won't," Alex reassured, flashing him a smile. "I'll go with him."

Dean faltered and then nodded curtly. Sam bolted and Alex sprinted after him, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the smell of decay. They slowed to a walk and Alex waved for Sam to follow her. They paused at a corner. "Here," she breathed.

"Stay here," Sam ordered, sliding around her before she could protest. Alex gritted her teeth as she watched around the corner. She growled as sam tried to approach the demon and surprise him, but suddenly, Samhain swung around, a bright light leaving his palm.

Sam didn't look the least bit concerned. "Yeah...demon ray gun stuff? Doesn't work on me."

Samhain snarled and lunged. He and Sam began to fight viciously with one another. Alex swore and readied her blade - until a hand on her shoulder stopped her. Her gaze snapped up and filled with shock.

Barachiel pressed his lips together and said quietly, "This is not your fight," he murmured. "This must happen."

"What?" she demanded, but he pressed a finger to her temple and Alex knew no more.

* * *

"Jab me one more time, you twat," a furious Alex seethed, an arm over her eyes to protect them from the sun. She felt sick, the sun making her head pound. "I dare you."

Dean smirked at her though his look held no amusement. She was in the grass of a park in the town they'd sort of saved while Dean sat on a bench beside her. Dean hadn't wanted to be around his brother - apparently, though Alex hadn't seen anything thanks to Barachiel, he'd used his powers to defeat Samhain. Alex was dealing with a crazy migraine that had everything in the room they'd stayed in reeking enough that she wanted to vomit and Dean had willingly left Sam to pack to take her out to the freshest area they could find.

She'd said nothing about what had happened. She didn't want them knowing about Barachiel. Dean had demanded answers, but she'd lied and said she couldn't remember. They didn't need to know yet and when they found out...she'd be more than willing to try and explain.

For now…

Dean jabbed her with his foot again.

Alex reached out and swiped hard enough to make him grimace in pain. She opened her eyes a moment later when she heard the fluttering of wings. He muttered a curse under his breath and said louder, "Let me guess. You're here for the 'I told you so', aren't you."

Castiel, who'd appeared beside him, shook his head. He eyed Alex curiously for a moment and then said, "I'm not here to judge either of you. Our orders-"

"We know you had orders, Cas," Alex said hoarsely, flinching as she lifted herself upright. "I've had enough of them, to be honest."

Castiel gave her what might have been an amused look. Gently, he informed them, "Our orders were not to stop the summoning of Samhain. They were to do whatever you told us to do. It was a test to see how you would perform under...battlefield conditions, you might say."

"What about her part?" Dean demanded, jerking this chin at Alex. "You guys won't shut up about the soldiering on."

Alex gave a grim smile as Castiel sighed. "she has been doing as she was told to do, which is the same as we were told to do. Follow your orders. Of course, I believe a third party has cut in?" His gaze narrowed at her.

Alex pretended to not know what the angel was talking about. She shrugged her shoulders. "No idea."

Dean blinked. "So I failed the test, didn't I? I get it. But I would make the same decision all over again. I'd have made the same call. 'Cause I don't know what's gonna happen when these seals are all broken. Hell, I don't know what's gonna happen tomorrow. But what I do know is that these kids, the swings, the trees...all of it is still here because of us."

Castiel gave a soft sound of amusement. "You misunderstand me, Dean. I'm not like you think." He raised his chin a fraction, pride in his eyes. "I was praying that you would choose to save the town. These people...they're all my father's creations." His gaze softened. "They're works of art and yet, even though you stopped Samhain, the seal was broken and we are one step closer to hell on earth for all of them. You of all people should appreciate what that means."

"Yeah," Dean murmured quietly.

"Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul? Both of you?" Castiel looked over at them.

"Okay," Dean agreed. Alex quietly echoed him, lifting her gaze curiously to the angel.

"I'm not a...puppet, as you would call someone, I suppose. I have questions and doubts. I don't know what is right or what is wrong anymore. I cannot say whether you passed or failed here." His gaze dropped to his lap. "But in the coming months, you will have more decisions to make. I do not envy the weight that's on your shoulders. I truly don't."

Dean's gaze widened a fraction and he looked at Alex, who met his gaze evenly.

Both shared a knowing look that spoke of the horrors that would come.

And when they looked back, Castiel was gone.

* * *

 _Told you I'd be a little faster this time! Had to do the Halloween chapter a couple weeks late, eh? Barachiel finally gave up his name. He's turning out to be a fun person for me to write._

 _Thanks to reviewers (kbeautimous, MaybeALittleBroken, and Trench gun!) as well as those who favorited and followed!  
_


	20. Wishful Thinking

**| November 6th, 2008 |**

Happily sipping away at a beer, Alex eyed various people around the bar they were in. Dean sat closer to her on her right than Sam did. He'd been edging closer ever since Sam had brought up the conversation, looking irritated with his brother. Sam wouldn't drop the topic despite several demands on Dean's behalf.

"It just doesn't make any sense," Sam protested as Dean downed a few shots, scowling. "I mean, why would Uriel tell me you remembered Hell if you didn't?"

Alex said nothing. She chugged another few sips from her beer as the eldest Winchester huffed, "Maybe because he's a dick. Might have something to do with it."

Apparently Uriel had gone to visit Sam when Castiel had stopped by the park to speak with she and Dean. Dean was still agitated about his method of getting rid of Samhain despite it being close to a week later and even Alex was getting irritable with Sam's reluctance to let it go.

"Maybe," Sam admitted, taking a small sip of his own drink. "But he's still an angel."

"Sam," Alex growled. "Uriel was going to annihilate this town."

They paused when a waiter cut into their conversation. Sam dealt with him as Alex gave the man a chilling look, not pleased whatsoever with the interruption.

"Sam," Dean began when the waiter was gone. "I have no idea why Uriel told you what he did, okay?"

"Then look me in the eye," Sam snapped, "And tell me you don't remember a thing from your time down there."

"I don't remember a thing," Dean outright lied, glaring into his brother's serious eyes. Sam narrowed his gaze and then finally muttered something under his breath. When Sam tried to turn to Alex and demand if she really thought he knew nothing, Dean huffed, "You know everything I do, Sam. Okay? That's all there is."

The waiter arrived again and grinned. "Dessert time? Am I right?"

"Dude," Dean muttered tiredly. "Really? Just get us the check."

The waiter scowled and went to fetch the check and Sam rolled his eyes before turning back to his brother. Before he could start up again, Alex cut in hastily. "So are there any hunts we can be taking?"

"I'm not sure." Sam pulled out his phone and went to work on looking into possible hunts in the area. "No signs of demonic activity anywhere...nothing. Just the typical smattering of supposed UFO sightings and one possible vengeful spirit." Sam glanced up. "Concrete, Washington. Eyewitness reports of a ghost that's been haunting the showers of a women's health facility."

Dean choked on his beer, sputtering. "What?!"

"The victim claims that the ghost threw her down a flight of stairs," Sam read off.

"Women, showers." Dean grinned and declared, holding a shot aloft. "We've gotta save these people!"

"Really?" Alex muttered, exasperated. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"No British slang in that one," Dean reported to Sam. "We'll Americanize her yet."

Alex merely scowled.

* * *

"Why are you coming?" Sam questioned as Alex followed him into a Chinese restaurant. Her mouth watered at the smell of food, so much more powerful to her.

"Because I can catch what you can't and I'm hungry." Alex's eyes glowed as they locked on a plate of delicious looking food. "I love Chinese food. Chinese food and tea, even though you don't eat and drink them together."

Sam snorted, amused, and then approached a woman that they'd asked to meet with. Candace Armstrong was a pretty woman despite the wounds she supported, with long dark hair and round cheeks. She gave Alex a horrified look, and Alex fought the urge to growl as she looked away, her grimace becoming more prominent as her scars tugged at it.

After they'd introduced themselves to her, they all seated themselves at a table and started off the conversation.

"I'm not surprised the spirit world chose to make contact with me," Candace boasted. Alex rolled her eyes at her, not amused. The spirit world was sure as hell not what she thought it was. "I'm something of a natural sensitive."

Sam, with his endless patience, said kindly, "I can sense that about you, Candace. That whole...sensitive thing. Right, Alex?"

"Mhm," Alex muttered, focused on a plate of chicken that went past.

Sam elbowed her as Candace asked about the name of their book and smiled at the woman. "The current working title is _Supernatural_. We've been crossing the country, gathering stories like yours...but, anyways, you were going to tell us about our encounter?"

"Yes. Well...once I saw the apparition, that's when I ran," she explained.

Alex made a sound of disgust and gestured to a couple that was kissing nearby. Sam, annoyed with her distracting behavior, glared and then questioned, "You said in an interview that the ghost chased you?"

"Not just that," Candace said. "It knew my name."

"It...knew your name?" Alex drawled, finally focusing.

Candace glared at her. "It kept yelling, 'Mrs. Armstrong! Mrs. Armstrong!'. And that's when I hit the stairs and fell. Oh, the ghost didn't push me like the stories say," she added at the look of surprise on Sam's face. "I mean, it might have. I don't think it did though."

"Did you feel like it meant to hurt you?" Alex asked, in full hunter mode. "Was it violent?"

"It was a ghost," Candace scoffed. "I'm lucky to be alive. Anyway, I was at the bottom of the stairs that's when it got weird." She grinned. "It _helped me up_." Her grin faded a little. "It was...it was really weird. It helped me up and it kept saying over and over, 'Please don't tell my mom!'."

Alex looked at Sam and he stared back.

"Yeah," Alex admitted, sitting back. Sam agreed with her.

"That's...weird," he muttered.

And weird was not necessarily a good thing.

* * *

"Well, you pick up anything?"

Dean glanced up as Sam and Alex jogged over. Alex looked quiet and thoughtful, but Sam's expression was hopeful until Dean reported, "No EMF in the shower. This house is clean, Sammy."

"Not surprised," Alex muttered, curling a lip. "Insanity pushed Mrs. Armstrong down the stairs."

"Alex!" Sam hissed in protest, bothered by her harsh tone.

Dean seemed to practically pout. "I'm pretty disappointed."

"You just wanted to see and save naked women," Alex told him, annoyed.

"Damn right I wanted to see and save naked women," Dean replied with a sigh. Sam chuckled under his breath and then glanced up when three boys ran past, chasing another. They were shouting and the boy running from the others struggled to sprint as fast as he could. "Run, Forrest, run!" Dean called.

"Dean Winchester, leave the young ones alone," Alex growled, glaring. He shrugged, not bothered by her words. She glanced over when a loud voice, snapping, "How the hell was I supposed to get a look at it?! It grabbed me from behind and threw me into a tree!" caught her attention. She quickly looked over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes.

"Something's going on over there," Dean said slowly, following her gaze curiously.

Alex listened intently, waving for the Winchesters to remain where they were for the time being.

"Yeah, okay," the police officer the man was talking with sighed. "I understand you got shook up, Gus, anyone would be. But don't you think it...don't you think it had to be a bear?"

"I know a damn bear track when I see one!" Gus retorted. "This thing didn't leave bear tracks!"

"Now," the officer tried to soothe, "Gus…"

"It was Bigfoot!" Gus burst out, laughing hysterically. " _The_ Bigfoot!"

"Gus," the officer repeated. "You're not talking sense here...let's call your wife-"

"There's a Bigfoot out there, damn it! And he's a son of a bitch!"

"Excuse us," Alex suddenly cut in. The men watched her, confused. "FBI." Alex flashed a smile at the officer, who glared as she sidled over, her hands on her hips. He eyed her scars with suspicion then shrugged to himself. "We're here about...that."

"About Bigfoot?" the officer said incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"That's right, sir," Alex replied, smiling charmingly. She winked. "Where exactly did this business happen?"

* * *

Staring blankly at the picture he'd taken on his phone, Dean found himself at a loss. Sam had gone inside the liquor store they found themselves sitting outside of, and even Alex, who was looking over Dean's shoulder at the image, couldn't come up with an explanation. Alex could hear Sam shuffling around, investigating.

"So...Bigfoot breaks into a liquor store, jonesing for some hooch? Amaretto and Irish cream. He's a girl-drink drunk."

Alex gave him a huff. "I drink vodka on occasion, you know."

They headed inside to check on Sam and Dean snatched a bottle of beer off a shelf, shoving it into his pocket. "Dean," Alex scolded, but he ignored her and followed Sam's voice when he called them over.

"Check this out," Sam said, waving.

"He took the whole porno rack?" Dean said, bewildered. "What the hell is going on in this town?"

They wandered outside of the store to gather their thoughts. "I got nothing," Dean said finally.

"It's gotta be a joke," Sam agreed. "Some big-ass mother in a gorilla suit?"

"American slang is just as confusing as Australian," Alex said under her breath. "Bloody morons."

"Someone's cranky," Dean commented, but said nothing more on it. "It's actually Bigfoot then? You know, and he's some kind of alcoholic. With an addiction to-"

Alex clapped a hand over his mouth. "I dislike that word. Say it again and you will never hear what you call "American speak" ever again."

Dean bit her hand and she recoiled in disgust as he continued to his amused brother, "He's kind of like a deep-woods Duchovny."

They all paused when a girl on a bike suddenly raced by. Something fell from a box on the bike and Alex scooped it up quickly, moving to offer it back to the girl - until she saw what it was. Her face turned a brilliant scarlet color and she threw it at Dean. Dean looked delighted when he realized what it was and then frowned after the girl. "Kind of young for some busty Asian beauties..."

They all stared when the girl dropped the box of alcohol and adult magazines beside the back door of the store, a sticky note with 'Sorry!' written on it planted firmly on the side of the box. She pedaled off, looking somewhat upset.

Alex didn't hesitate. She shucked her shirt right off and threw it at Sam as she undid her bra. He gaped and then snapped his head the other way, muttering about how she needed to stop stripping out of nowhere. Dean just stared with a silly grin on his face, watching as Alex shifted into her canine form and bolted after the girl.

The girl paused to greet her with a gasp of delight and then kept going, Alex trotting beside her.

"What the hell just happened?" Sam questioned, but Dean merely grabbed Alex's clothes off the ground, whistling cheerfully after the free show he'd been given.

* * *

Alex was waiting impatiently on the porch of a house when Sam and Dean finally arrived. Her tail thumped on the wood of the porch as they approached and she woofed before looking at the door. "You need to learn some patience," Dean told her.

She curled a lip and pawed impatiently at the door, glaring at them.

So, Sam knocked. There was a few moments before it was answered. A nervous dark-haired girl peered up at them from the cracked door, but when she caught sight of Alex, she opened the door wider and immediately let Alex nose her way inside with a giggle. "Um...hello."

"Hi there," Sam greeted, kneeling down to her level so his height wasn't as intimidating. "Could we...actually, are your parents home? What's your name?"

"Audrey," she answered and then shook her head. "Nope. They're not." Her eyes suddenly grew round and troubled and she blurted, "Is he in trouble?" They gave her a curious look and Alex snorted, flicking an ear. "My teddy bear...I think he's sick," Audrey admitted.

"Wow," Dean said uncertainly. He was uncertain of how to even go around speaking without permission to a girl of this age. "Amazing…'cause you know what?" He glanced at his brother. "We...are...uh, teddy bear doctors! Yeah! Teddy bear doctors. That's us."

Audrey looked beyond relieved. "Really?" she gasped, smiling broadly at them as she tugged at the overalls she wore. "Can you please take a look at him?"

"Sure." Sam stood and told her, "But could you stay in the living room and watch our dog for us?" He patted Alex's head and she fought the urge to snap warningly at his fingers, not pleased with the touch. Instead, she wagged her tail and gave a friendly woof.

Audrey looked uncertain. "He doesn't like anyone else…"

"Okay, here's what we'll do then. You show us your teddy bear, but stick close to the pretty doggy, okay?" Dean suggested, and Audrey agreed that this was a smart idea and led them upstairs. He exchanged a glance with Sam again, anxious. This wasn't right. None of this was.

Alex hopped up to the top of the stairs and waited for them, her ears pricked as she studied the first door they came across. She let her fur fluff up in defense. _What the hell is in there? Smells bloody odd…_

"He's pretty grumpy," Audrey told them as she gripped Alex's fur gently. Alex let her. She knocked on the door and called softly, "Teddy? There's some nice doctors here to see you!" She grabbed the doorknob and opened the door.

What Alex saw was something that would give her nightmares for weeks.

"Close the friggin' door!" a drunken teddy bear that must have stood near five feet tall screamed at them in a slurred and broken voice, furious.

Audrey closed the door.

Alex stared at the door with her mouth open, unable to comprehend what she'd just seen. Sam and Dean looked just as amazed. Both looked at one another in shock as Audrey sighed, "See what I mean? All I ever wanted was a teddy which was big, real, and talked. But...now he's sad. All the time. Not 'ouch' sad, but kind of sad like Mommy is when Daddy comes home from that weird place he told me about, and he says weird stuff. He smells like the bus." Audrey wrinkled her nose.

He did smell like the bus, Alex agreed, rubbing at her nose with a paw.

"Um," Dean stammered, shaken by the giant teddy bear. "Audrey...how exactly did your teddy become real?"

"I wished for it," she chirped, catching all of their attention. "At the wishing well."

With reluctance, Dean opened the bedroom door again. He stared at Teddy the teddy bear with a wary look on his face as it laughed hysterically. "Look at this," it said, gesturing at the TV it was watching. "You believe this crap?"

"Not really." Dean frowned, seeing the news headlines that raced across the screen.

"It's a terrible world," Teddy wailed. "Why am I here?!"

"For tea parties!" Audrey informed him with a pout.

"Tea parties?" Teddy laughed hysterically again. "Is that all there is?" He gave a sob. "Is that all there is?"

They stepped back into the hallway. Sam's face was full of horror, Deans of terror. "Audrey," Sam rasped. "Give us a second, okay?" Audrey nodded and went to stand by Alex. Alex kept her busy, licking her fingers playfully until the girl giggled and hugged her. "Are we...Dean. Are we going to kill this teddy bear?"

"How?" Dean whispered back. "Do we shoot it? Burn it?"

"I don't know...both?"

"What if it doesn't work?" Dean shuddered. "I don't want some giant, flaming, pissed-off teddy bear on our hands!"

"Yeah...I get the feeling the bear isn't really the core problem here," Sam admitted. Alex woofed her agreement and though she said no human words, both Winchesters had been with her long enough to recognize what she'd said. "Audrey," Sam said, approaching her. "Where are your parents?"

Audrey gave a half-hearted shrug. "I don't know. Mommy wished they were in Bali. I think they're in Bali."

"Okay, well," Sam said faintly. "I'm sorry to have to break this to you, but...your bear is sick. He's, uh, he's got…"

"Lollipop disease," Dean cut in hastily. "Not uncommon for a bear his size. But it's really contagious. So is there someone...a grown-up, preferably, that you can stay with while we take care of him for you?"

"Mrs. Hurley lives down the street," Audrey said seriously.

"Perfect," Dean told her, smiling crookedly.

"Good, good," Sam agreed. "We'd like you to stay there for a few days, okay?"

"Okay," Audrey sighed, pouting at Alex. Alex gave a wolfish grin.

"Audrey," Dean requested suddenly. "Where's that wishing well you mentioned?"

* * *

"Think it works?" Alex asked as they stared into the fountain at the Chinese restaurant she and Sam had talked to Candace in. Her eyes were locked on the fountain, her fingers twitching.

"Has to," Dean said slowly. "Any other explanation for Mr. Drunk?" He dug in his pocket for a coin. "One way to find out…"

"Can I do it?" Alex said a little too eagerly when Dean pulled a coin out. He glared suspiciously and shook his head before throwing in a coin. She scowled at him.

"Knowing you, you're going to make bad choices," he explained. A moment later, a man walked into the restaurant with a hat that read of another food place and asked with a bit of confusion on his face if somebody had ordered a sandwich. "That'd be me!" Dean called, taking the sandwich from him.

They went to sit at a table and discuss their findings, Alex still pouting and looking longingly at the fountain. Her fingers twitched every now and then, her entire body seeming to lean towards it.

"So I think it works," Dean told them, chowing down on his sandwich. "That was pretty specific. The teddy bear, my sandwich…I'm guessing this." He shoved the newspaper he'd been reading over, tapping an article that was about a lottery winner.

Sam made a face at a kissing couple. "I'm guessing that."

"Definitely that," Alex muttered, grimacing. "I'm sure he's a nice guy, but a lady that pretty wouldn't look in his direction."

"How nice of you," Dean said sarcastically. "What are we supposed to do, huh? Stop people's wishes from coming true? I mean...that's a kinda douche thing to do, Sam."

"Yeah, maybe, but come on." Sam sat back, shaking his head. "When has something like this ever come without a price tag? It's usually a deadly one."

Alex paused, finally tearing her gaze away from the fountain to sigh, "I suppose you've got a point there. We'll put a hold on the wishing until we figure out what the bloody hell is going on in here."

"Works for me." Dean took another huge bite out of his sandwich, sighing happily at the taste. But he glanced up when a waiter paused at their table, frowning at them.

"Um, gentlemen - and lady," he added hastily when Alex looked up expectantly, eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry. We don't allow people to eat outside food in here."

"Well," Dean said, mouth shoved full. "I am certainly not gonna eat the inside food here." Sam and Alex stared at him in confusion. "Health department. You, my friend, have a rat infestation. We're gonna have to shut this place down under emergency hazard code 56C!"

"Rats?!" the waiter gasped, horrified.

"Rats," Dean confirmed, climbing to his feet. Alex and Sam hastily followed suit, both equally as bewildered on what they should do. "Go drain that fountain and lift all the chairs. We're gonna have to take a look at _everything_."

The waiter went to do just that, and then Alex turned a look on Dean. "Are you serious right now, Winchester?"

"I'm deadly serious," he replied. "Now no one will try and wish on anything while we're trying to investigate." They looked at him with surprise, and he scowled. "What? I can be smart."

"We know," Alex said quickly, "But it's just surprising that you can be this smart." Sam's lips curved into a grin as he headed over to the fountain. The man had finished draining it for them, and Dean and Alex followed Sam over. Dean reached in and swept the coins around with his hand despite Sam advising him not to.

"Typical fountain," Dean said thoughtfully, aware that the waiter was glaring at them. "Plaster Buddha. Nothing I can see."

"Yes, nothing," the waiter said curtly. "We keep a clean place here."

"Sir," Sam said, "I'm gonna have to ask you to leave during the preliminary investigation, okay? Thank you." The waiter scowled furiously, but did as Sam asked and left the building. Alex snickered at the insults he muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, Dean flipped a coin and snatched it out of the air. He did it again, except this time, Sam caught it, and he studied it with care. "Come on, Sammy! Aren't you a little bit tempted?"

"No," Sam chuckled, shaking his head mournfully. "It wouldn't be real, Dean. I don't trust it."

"Well, I will." Alex suddenly snatched the coin from Sam's hands. "That bloody bear seemed real enough!"

"Alex," Dean snapped, reaching over to try and pry the coin from her hands, but she'd already flipped the coin and let it hit the bottom of the fountain. Dean glared at her and she glared right back. "We said-"

"So you get to wish for a bloody sandwich," Alex seethed, growling at him. The sound rumbled low in her chest, vibrating throughout her entire body. "But I can't wish for my nightmares to go away?"

There was a moment of silence as Sam and Dean looked at her in surprise. And then Dean awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. "Okay, okay," he grumbled, looking back down at the fountain. "I get it. Sorry." He went back to searching through the coins and switched the subject around. "Come on, Sammy. You could wish yourself back, you know. Before it all started. You'd be some big yuppie lawyer with a nice car and a white picket fence."

That made Alex curious. She glanced over at Sam and cocked her head a fraction, forgetting her anger with the eldest Winchester. She'd never really heard of what Sam and Dean had done before hunting...well, they'd hunted. But Dean had mentioned a time where Sam hadn't been there, and it made her curious to know more about it.

"Not what I'd wish for," Sam said curtly. He proudly raised his chin. "It's too late to go back to our old lives, Dean. The guy I was before Dad went missing and you came and dragged me out of college...before Jess' death. I'm not that guy anymore."

"Alright, well…what then?" Dean asked, pulling back. "What would Sammy wish for?"

The dark answer Sam gave sent a chill down Alex's spine. "Lilith's head on a plate. Bloody."

Dean said nothing, but Alex caught the way his jaw clenched unhappily as he suddenly leaned down and tapped a certain coin, his eyes narrowed. "Okay...what's this?"

"Some kind of old coin," Sam answered, frowning. "I don't recognize the markings. Do you, Alex?"

The skinwalker shook her head. "No...damn, it doesn't want to come up." She pried at it with her fingers as hard as she could, glaring when Sam told her to lift with her legs.

"Is that little mother welded on there?" Dean demanded, thoughtfully giving it a try himself.

"Hold on, let me go get some stuff from the car." Sam jogged towards the doors. Alex stared after him, but didn't question just what he was planning on grabbing. Instead, she turned to Dean when he spoke quietly.

"No nightmares, eh? Should try that one myself."

Alex gave a wry smile. "Now, now, no stealing my wishes, Winchester. I called dibs first. Get your own idea."

"I did. I got a damn good sandwich." He folded his arms, eyeing the coin with suspicion. "Think it's magical?"

"Probably," Alex sighed as Sam came back in. In one hand he held a large hammer. In the other, there was a crowbar. The waiter followed him in, protesting that he'd break the fountain, but Sam warned him off.

"Here," he said, handing the hammer and crowbar to Dean. "Try that." Dean took them, weighed them both in his hands, and then instructed Alex to hold the crowbar in place. Alex eyed him suspiciously as he did. Suddenly, Dean swung the hammer down.

They yelped as the hammer shattered on the side of the fountain and the crowbar snapped in half, raking a pointed end along Alex's arm. She swore in pain, glowering at the pair of Winchesters furiously.

"Coin's magical," Sam decided.

"I'd say. I think it's hoodoo that's protecting the well...I don't think we can destroy this." Dean shook his head with a sigh. "Never gonna be that easy."

Sam quickly sketched out a doodle of the coin and then pushed the paper into Dean's hand. "Here. You two go figure things out about the coin. Something just occurred to me, and I need to go deal with it."

"...okay," Alex said, taking the paper from Dean and studying it. "Good luck."

Sam only smiled tightly and left.

* * *

Alex frowned as she watched three boys run from the boy that had tossed a coin in the wishing well and narrowed her eyes worriedly. But she didn't stop him, instead ducking into the motel room where she could hear Dean being fairly sick in the bathroom. "Ugh," she muttered in disgust.

She was just dropping onto the couch when the door opened and Sam ducked inside. "Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," he echoed. He paused when the sound of vomiting filled the room. "Is that…?"

"Winchester number one? Yes." Alex rolled her eyes. "Sandwich didn't sit well with him. Did it, Dean?" she called louder.

"Wishes turn bad!" Dean shouted back, sounding hoarse. "Sam, these wishes turn very bad!"

Alex cackled, and then explained, gesturing to the laptop she'd been using for research, "The coin was Babylonian. It's cursed. There's a fragment of a legend that says the serpent on it is Tiamat. That's the Babylonian god of primordial chaos. I suppose their bloody priests had a fondness for black magic."

"So the Babylonian priests made the coin?" Sam asked, sitting on the couch beside her to look at his laptop.

"Mhm," she agreed. "Whoever tossed the coin into the wishing well and made a wish...they turned on the well. It started granting wishes to all of those who came to it."

"But the wishes get twisted," Sam said slowly.

"Yes." Alex furrowed her brow, grimacing. "You ask for a talking teddy…"

"You get a bipolar nut job," Dean gasped as he stumbled out of the bathroom, looking white.

"You got E. coli," Sam told him, looking amused.

Dean scowled. Alex cut him off before he could speak, chuckling under her breath. "This thing has turned more than a few towns upside down over the centuries," she said. "It's wiped a few off of record even. One person gets their wish, it's trouble. If everybody does...well. I suppose we know what happened with the Greek tale of Pompeii."

"Any way to stop it?" Sam demanded, rubbing his temples.

"We've got to find the first wisher," Alex explained, reaching out and tapping the screen. "Whoever first dropped the coin in and made the first wish...they're the only ones who can pull it back out and reverse it. We've got limited time, however. Once word gets out...pissed off teddy bears aren't going to be the least of our concerns."

"I'd say," Dean gagged as he stumbled back into the bathroom.

Alex suddenly frowned. "I shouldn't have done the wishing bit."

"Dear God," Sam muttered. "Save me from these morons…"

* * *

"Alex!"

The skinwalker snapped awake, a little flustered. Face red, she looked over to see Sam watching her with an arched eyebrow before turning his attention on his brother, calling for him to wake up, too.

"Damn," Alex muttered, burying her face in her pillow.

She'd gotten rid of the nightmares, all right.

She'd been given other horrific dreams instead, and her body was clearly very pleased with the choice.

"Sleep well?" Sam asked, mockingly questioning both of them. Alex didn't bother to lift her head, ordering him to shut up with a muffled voice. Dean, on the other hand, reached for a bottle of whiskey on the floor and chugged half of it. "Dean-" Sam began.

"I'm fine," Dean said curtly.

"You think I can't see it?" Sam blurted, furious suddenly. "The nightmares, the drinking...I'm with you, twenty four seven! Alex and I both are! I know something's going on, Dean!" Dean gave him a tired pleading look, but Sam growled, "Uriel wasn't lying. You are. You remember Hell, don't you?"

"Sam, I can't do this right now," Dean said quietly and then took another drink of his whiskey.

"I just wish you'd talk to me," Sam retorted, frustrated.

"Careful what you wish for," Alex rasped as she dragged herself from the bed. "Can we get a move on? What do you have, Sam?"

Sam grimaced and reported, "We've got a teddy bear. Lottery guy, invisible pervert…" Alex scowled, remembering what Sam had told them the day before about finding a kid wishing to be invisible so he could spy on naked women. "They must have wished sometime in the last two weeks. But who wished first? How are we supposed to know who else wished for what when?" He huffed. "So many suspects."

"Well it helps when they announce it in the paper," Alex said suddenly, scrolling through the information Sam had gathered on the laptop. She grinned.

"Wesley Mondale and Hope Lynn Casey have announced their surprise engagement," Dean read aloud, giving a wistful grin. "Ah, true love."

"Let's go," Alex said quickly and climbed to her feet. "I'm sick of those dreams."

Dean gave her a long look. "Just what the hell were you dreaming about if not nightmares?"

She turned red. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she growled and stormed out of the motel room, leaving them.

"Yes, actually, I think I would like to know," Dean said as he trailed after her, yanking his shoes on as he went. Sam made a sound of disgust and reluctantly followed them, grabbing the keys to the Impala and closing the door behind them.

* * *

The ringing of a doorbell filled the air. From where he stood, Dean impatiently tapped his foot. Alex stood beside him, between the two Winchesters, dropping her hand after ringing the doorbell. Dean grinned at her, mockingly smirking when she refused to look at him. "C'mon, puppy. What were you dreaming about?"

"None of your bloody business," she seethed, smashing his toe with her heel. He swore and hopped up and down as the door opened to reveal a beautiful young woman, who smiled broadly.

"The florists, right? I'm so glad you made it! Wes," she called over her shoulder. "You didn't tell me that you called the florists for the wedding!"

"Too pretty for him," Dean mumbled under his breath as they were allowed inside. "You'd be more his type, mutt."

Alex pretended she hadn't smashed his toes again and ducked inside when the woman allowed them in. "Huh?" a man said oh-so-intelligently, staring at them. "I did?"

"You're the best!" she cheered. "I'm going to go get my folders!" She kissed him on the cheek and left quickly, a hum leaving her lips as she went.

Dean gave a smile that would have had most people running the other way. "Wesley, my man. How's it going?"

"It's...aren't you the health department people?" Wesley looked confused, gaze shifting between all three of them. His gaze lingered particularly suspiciously on Alex when she hummed that they were florists on the side.

"Plus FBI," she continued. "Oh, and on Thursdays?"

"Teddy bear doctors," Dean finished, still smiling darkly.

"It doesn't matter who we are," Sam sighed, rolling his eyes at their dramatics. For two people who claimed to dislike each other...they were fairly good at reading each other's minds… "What matters is what we know. You're a coin collector, Wes?"

"Uh...yeah. My...my grandfather gave them to me," he stammered, lips pressed together.

"Did you happen to lose one of those coins lately?" Alex said brightly. "And I mean, drop it into a wishing well at a Chinese restaurant and make a wish on it?"

"No," Wesley said anxiously. "I...I don't know what you're, uh, talking about - Hope!" He looked relieved when the woman swept back into the room, her face alight with excitement and her arms laden down with papers and follows.

"Okay, now," Hope said, shoving a folder at all three of them. "I have a lot of ideas, but you know, we don't have all the money in the world. Wes is between jobs right now, which means more time for me. Anyways, I'm thinking...Japanese-y ikebana kind of thing."

"Yes," Dean said grandly. "Yes! I can see it."

Alex elbowed him, rolling her eyes. "Is that necessary?"

"Yeah...so, Hope." Sam smiled at her. "Tell us how you two lovebirds met."

"Oh, best day of my life," Hope gushed. "It's the funniest thing! We both grew up here. I never really knew who he was, though, not by name. One day, last month...it was like I just…" She heaved out a huge sigh. "It was like I saw him for the first time. He was just...glowing."

Anxious, Wesley said, "Uh...babe? Can you...could you get us some coffee?"

"I take tea," Alex corrected mockingly, and he glared at her for it.

"Yes, yes," Hope said eagerly. She started to pepper kisses all over his face and then left, looking pleased.

Alex turned sharp blue eyes on Wesley, as sharp as flint. "We know. Speak the truth, you bloody idiot."

"My…my grandfather found the coin in northern Africa. World War II," Wesley said, finally giving in with an embarrassed look. "he brought it back and said it was a real wish-granting coin. But he said that nobody should ever use it. It was all I had, and when he died...I thought, 'Well, you know what? Why not give the coin a shot?'"

Sam crossed his arms with a stern look. "Well, now you're gonna wish it back."

"Oh," Wesley laughed. "Oh! Ha! No. No I'm not."

Sam thought Alex's teeth sharpened a fraction as she grinned at the man. "Like bloody hell you aren't. You're coming with us, Wesley. And if you don't get rid of that coin, I'm going to rip your throat out."

" _Alex_ ," Dean said, stunned. "Just what the hell are you dreaming about?"

Alex turned the look on him and he wisely sidled towards the door, muttering about how he'd get the car started, and even Sam gave her a curious look. "Really, Alex," Sam said. "What _are_ you dreaming about?"

"No big deal," she said evenly. "Nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about at all unless you want your eyes to go missing."

"Right...this way, Wesley."

Sam led the man outside and decided that it'd be better if the crabby Alex sat up front rather than in the back with Wesley. Alex looked a little bit happier, sitting up front with Dean. Dean backed the Impala out and then set off for the restaurant.

"I don't get it." Wesley said after a while, looking somewhat upset. "So what? My wish came true. Why does that have to be a bad thing?"

Alex felt a little bad for the poor guy as she said gently, her attitude gone now that they were getting a move on, "The wishes go bad. Your town is going to go insane."

"Come on," Dean said, glancing in the mirror to look at him. "You gonna sit there and tell us that your relationship with Hope is functional? That it's what you wished for?"

Wesley admitted, "I wished she would love me more than anything."

"Yeah, and how's that going?" Sam questioned. He looked somewhat amused. "That seem healthy to you? Obsessing over every little thing?"

"It's a hell of a lot better than when she didn't know I was alive."

"You're not supposed to get what you want, man," Dean sighed. "Not like this. Nobody is. That's what the coin does...it takes your heart's desires and it twists it back on you. You hear the phrase 'Be careful what you wish for'?"

Wesley opened his mouth to answer, but paused when the Impala jolted. Alex yelped a little when she was thrown against the seat belt, her hand darting out to brace herself on the dashboard. "Did we just hit something?" she muttered.

"I didn't see anything," Dean commented.

"'Careful what you wish for'," Wesley mocked bitterly, pressing his lips together. "You know who says that? Good-looking jerks like you guys. The ones who've got it so easy because you happen to be handsome. And women like you," Wesley added to Alex. "Even with that scar on your face, you're pretty enough to be able to pick and choose."

" _Easy_?" Alex rasped. "Believe me, you ignorant twat. I don't have it _easy_. I don't sit around happily going at it with men of my choice. How do you think I even got this?" She tapped her cheek, ignoring Sam's flinch at the reminder. "Our life is not pleasant. Walk a kilometer in our shoes before you think we have it easy."

"A _kilometer_?" Dean snorted. He grinned when Alex mockingly told him she was going to bite him. "Go ahead, sweetheart. I dare you."

"Women might look at us," Sam admitted, turning to him. "But we don't have it easy. We're…"

"Miserable," Dean offered. "We never get what we want. In fact, we have to fight tooth and nail just to keep one another alive. But you know what? Maybe that's the whole point. People are people 'cause they're miserable bastards. Because they never get what they really want."

"If you got what you wanted all the time, you'd go nutty," Alex said gently.

Wesley didn't seem to get the message they were trying to tell him. "You know what?" he snapped. "Hope loves me now - completely! And it's awesome! Besides." He gestured to the window. "Where's all this "insanity" you were talking about?"

Dean pulled the Impala into a parking lot and turned it off, staring at something out his window. Alex leaned over to look, her breath kissing his cheek unintentionally and earning her a glare. Dean and Wesley pressed into the side of the car to see.

Alex's sharp ears caught children screaming. "Hit the button!" one boy screamed. "Lock it, lock it!"

The boy that stood before the car tilted his head. He studied the car, and then reached out with an eager grin and promptly lifted the entire vehicle. With a shove, the entire jeep tipped sideways and the boy laughed, throwing his hands triumphantly into the air. "Kneel before Todd!"

"Bloody hell," Alex whispered in horror. She could hear the boys start screaming again as Todd shoved at the jeep a second time. "Dean-"

"Go deal with the fountain," he ordered, shooting out of the car. "I'll handle Todd! You get Wes to the Chinese place. Go!"

"Got it!" Sam shot out the side of the car. Wesley scooted out behind him and Alex rushed through the open window, unintentionally shifted forms as she went. She hit the ground on all fours and Wesley clueless gawked at her.

"Hey," Dean called as they bolted towards the building. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Alex grimaced a moment later when she heard Dean get thrown into some trash cans.

"That...that kid turned that car over like it was nothing," Wesley whispered in horror.

"You should have seen the teddy bear," Sam said darkly. "Now, come on. Fun's over. Time to pull the coin!"

Wesley looked miserable. "Why can't we just get what we want?" he said.

"Because that's-"

Sam didn't get to finish before there was a bright flash and he crumpled. Alex barked sharply and raced back over, anxious as Wesley darted into the restaurant. Furious, she returned to the Impala for her clothes and in seconds was racing back to the restaurant with a determined expression.

She burst in, her hair standing on end when she saw Hope flipping a coin into the wishing well. "Hope?" Wesley said faintly a few feet in front of her.

Hope spun around, face streaked with tears. "I had to do it, didn't I?" she sobbed. "They were gonna make you wish away our love."

Alex flinched as pain raced down her spine. She staggered a step, catching Wesley's attention. His eyes flashed with horror when she collapsed, struggling to reach back and feel what was there, a cry leaving her lips.

"You wished a man dead and for someone to suffer?" Wesley croaked, waving at Alex. Her fingers stained red with blood, Alex stared harshly at Hope, malice in her eyes. Blood rolled down her cheek from the scar that seemed to have reopened. It felt like every scar on her battered body was opening - and it hurt almost as bad as the demon blades had.

"I love you more than anything," Hope said honestly, blubbering.

"Stop saying that," he cried, "Stop it!"

Her voice broke as she sobbed, "But I do! More than anything. More than me, more than life. Oh, please don't hate me!"

"It'll be okay," Wesley reassured, "I'll make it okay."

He stepped up to the fountain, reaching inside. He removed the coin after hesitation and Alex coughed and gasped, touching her bruised throat as the bruises themselves began to fade. She distantly heard Hope questioning if she knew the man before her before leaving and closed her eyes, exhausted.

"I hate my bloody life." This was said to Sam as he ducked inside, looking bewildered.

"Don't we all?" he muttered back.

Wesley muttered his very firm agreement to that.

* * *

Alex stared openly as a pair of sunburned people walked hand-in-hand with Audrey down the street. The father held a teddy bear for her, and Alex could only gawk at the hole she could see in its head.

"Bloody hell, Teddy apparently committed suicide," she whispered. "Dean look at that."

He shuddered and showed her a newspaper. "Lottery dude's a fake apparently."

"Ooh, now I want to try the lottery," she mused.

"Good luck," Dean said with a snort. The trio of hunters climbed to their feet. Sam, who'd been quietly looking through his phone, glanced over when Dean told them to hold on. "You were right," he said as he turned to his brother.

"About…?" Sam asked, arching his brow curiously.

"I shouldn't have lied to you," Dean admitted. "I do remember everything that happened in Hell. Everything."

"So...tell me about it," Sam demanded, but Dean shook his head and he demanded, "Why not? You can't just shoulder this kind of thing alone...you've got to let me help!"

"How?" Dean's eyes narrowed. "Do you really think that a little heart-to-heart is gonna change anything, Sam? Somehow heal me? I'm not talking about a bad day here. I won't lie anymore. But I'm not gonna talk about it, you hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear you." Sam looked unhappy, but accepted it, and Alex patted Dean's shoulder before heading over to the Impala.

Her blue eyes flashed uncertainly as she ducked into the vehicle, reaching for her phone. She faltered when she found her brother's text from earlier in the week, a pleading one asking if she'd please come and investigate something. As Dean climbed into the car, she cleared her throat to catch his and Sam's attention.

"So...where to next?" she asked.

"Well," Sam said, pulling out his phone. "Looks like there might be a ghost in Ohio..."

* * *

 _Love this episode. Another one of my favorites with the teddy bear bit. Heading into some serious angel bits next chapter!  
_

 _Thanks to reviewers (Trench gun and ShioriOokami!) as well as anyone who favorited and followed!_


	21. I Know What You Did Last Summer

**|November 13th, 2008|**

From where he sat, a beer in hand, Dean admitted that Alex had skill when it came to scamming men out of their money. She was also damn good when it came to playing the game of pool. Despite the scar on her face, she did a good job of luring guys in and convincing them to play against her, betting high prices.

And then she shot them down by beating them and taking all of their money.

Finally, after she'd gained enough, she bid them farewell and sidled over to Dean, her eyes glowing as she handed him a stack of nearly a grand. "There. One thousand American dollars, which later needs to be split among the three of us. Got it, Winchester? No keeping it all to yourself!"

"Yes, ma'am," Dean replied, tucking the money away. She dropped into a seat beside him and stole his beer right out of his hand. He glared, but she ignored him and merely chugged the rest of it. "Thanks. Didn't want it anymore."

She beamed and slammed the empty bottle down. "No problem."

Sam shook his head across the table from her and she flashed him a grin, baring her teeth. "Want to see a magic trick, Sam? I can make your beer vanish, too."

"No, no, don't take my beer, please," Sam sighed, making a face and taking a drink of it. "And stop taking Dean's. That's the fourth one tonight and I think he's going to explode if he doesn't get his alcohol."

Dean was glaring at Alex furiously, but she only shrugged, looked him in the eye and said, "And I'm going to take it again, because he doesn't-" She cut off, head snapping around, a growl spilling from her lips. Her nose wrinkled. She could smell sulfur, but she couldn't tell where it was-

 _There_.

"Alex?" Dean muttered as she threw herself away from the table, scowling and Sam stood swiftly when he found what Alex had seen. He trailed after her and left in the dust, Dean finally climbed to his feet and followed suit.

"Hey," Sam greeted as they stepped outside and found himself face-to-face with a dark-haired Ruby. Her eyes flashed as Alex just stood there and growled at her, and Dean scowled.

"Well," Dean said, "You've got a lot of nerve showing up anywhere near me."

"I just have some info," Ruby sighed, rolling her eyes. "And then I'm gone."

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"I'm hearing a few whispers." Alex snorted in disbelief and Ruby propped a hand on her hip, leaning her weight onto one foot. "A girl named Anna Milton escaped from a locked ward yesterday and the demons seem pretty keen on finding her. Apparently, some real heavy hitters turned out for the hunt."

"Why?" Sam questioned, frowning. "Who is she?"

"No idea," Ruby replied with a shrug. "But I'm thinking that she's important, 'cause the order is to capture her alive." Her eyes flashed. "I just figured that whatever the deal is, you might want to find this girl before the demons do."

"Actually," Dean said icily before they could get another word in, "We're working a case. But thanks." Sam and Alex looked at him in confusion, both just as bewildered. "We've got leads, big leads. And it ain't goose-chasing after some chick who, for all we know, doesn't even exist. Just because you say she's important."

Ruby's face darkened. "I'm just delivering the news, dumbass. Do whatever you want with it. Far as I'm concerned, I told you. I'm done."

"Wait, wait, wait," Sam said hastily, stepping forward. "The hospital she escaped from...it got a name?"

* * *

The next day found a grouchy Alex lying at Dean's feet with a vest on, her nose working a mile a minute as she tried to sort through the smell of sulfur. Sam and Dean spoke with a psychologist, Dean cranky over the fact that they were here and talking to said man.

"The orderly has no recollection of Anna's escape?" Sam asked carefully, a notepad in hand to write down information he found important.

"She knocked him unconscious," the psychologist answered. "The blow caused some amnesia. He doesn't even remember coming into her room."

"That's a hell of a right hook to knock out a guy that's got eighty pounds on her," Dean commented snidely. Alex huffed in annoyance at his attitude and then sneezed several times, earning a bewildered look from the psychologist.

"I don't understand why the FBI has a working canine," he muttered, but returned to the matter at hand. "We think she may have planned this, waited behind the door."

"Right." Sam glanced at Alex when she didn't stop sneezing, making a small gesture to his brother. "You mentioned her illness was recent?"

The psychologist nodded curtly. "Two months ago, Anna was a happy, well-adjusted woman with a journalism major and lots of friends. She had a bright future ahead of her - uh, is your dog alright?"

Alex growled, agitated. She sneezed again and again, rubbing at her nose to try and stop it, and Dean finally knelt down to help. "Yeah, she's fine. Must be the sanitation. Uh, did she just...flip?" Lowering his voice, he hissed, "What the hell, Alex?"

She growled and sneezed in his face.

"That's the tragedy of schizophrenia," the psychologist said gravely. "Within weeks, Anna was overtaken by delusions...she thought demons were everywhere." He paused to pick up a sketchbook that had been placed on the bed they stood beside, handing it to Sam. "It's not uncommon for our patients to believe that monsters are real."

"Isn't that just batty," Dean said from his place on the floor. Alex sneezed again, and whined pathetically, scrubbing at her nose in hopes that the sulfur would leave it. Dean stood to look at the sketchbook with his brother and furrowed his brow. "That's Revelations."

"Well, Anna's father _was_ a church deacon," the psychologist explained. "When she became ill, her paranoia took on religious overtones. She was convinced that the devil was about to rise up and end the world. I hope you find her...it's so dangerous for her to be out there alone right now…"

"We will," Sam said firmly. "Trust us." He handed the sketchbook back and then glanced down when Alex sneezed. "We'll get out of your hair. Thank you for the information." He waved for Dean to follow and together they left, Alex hurrying after them with several more sneezes flying from her.

"Are you okay?" she was asked by a cackling Dean. It earned him a nasty look as she paused to try and desperately rub the smell of sulfur from her nose, all while hatefully glaring at him for his mocking.

* * *

After a quick stop at Anna's parents' home in which they discovered that both her mother and father had been murdered, the trio of hunters came up with a possible location of where Anna might be.

Alex gave the church a distasteful look as she climbed out of the car, dressed in a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and her leather jacket. A pair of sturdy boots had been yanked on, a pistol hidden in the waist of her jeans at the small of her back. She nudged the Impala's door shut and waited patiently until Sam and Dean were ready before following them inside.

"You're not looking too happy," Sam commented as they ducked inside, his own weapon drawn and ready.

Alex gave him a long look. "Sam, any angel we've come across has been a complete and total twat that can go die in a bloody hole. Who do they look to in a church like this? You guessed it. Their bloody Father. So excuse me for not being happy about coming into a church." She paused. "And it kind of makes skinwalkers uncomfortable."

"Huh. Noted." Dean cleared his throat, gesturing to a flight of stairs. They climbed it and when they reached the top, where a beautiful stained glass window was set, they paused. Alex signaled to her companions that someone was there and Sam and Dean hastily put their weapons away as Sam called Anna's name gently.

"We won't hurt you," Sam told her kindly as a woman reluctantly emerged, eyes frightened. "We're here to help. I'm Sam. This is my brother, Dean, and our friend Alex-"

"Sam?" Anna whispered, pressing her lips together. "Not Sam Winchester?"

Sam looked stunned. "Uh, yeah?"

"And...you're Dean. _The_ Dean? And Alexandriana Montgomery?" Her eyes took on a frightened look as she studied Alex and Alex had to fight the urge to shiver beneath Anna's sharp gaze. "You're the Soldier?"

"I suppose," Alex said slowly, bewildered.

"It's really you," Anna gasped, her hand covering her mouth. "The angels talk about you," she added, looking at Dean. "You were in Hell, but Castiel pulled you out and some of them think you can save us - both of you," she added with a look Alex didn't quite understand. "They talk about you two all the time lately...I feel like I know you."

"You talk to angels?" Alex said stiffly, not entirely pleased with this development.

"Oh, no," Anna said hastily. "No, no way! Um, they probably don't even know I exist," she explained with a laugh. "I overhear them." She tucked a red lock of hair behind her ear. "They talk and sometimes I just...hear them in my head."

"Are you hearing them now?" Dean asked, frowning. This woman wasn't insane like everyone else had thought. In no way was she insane, not if she knew without pre-mentioned facts about them. And only the angels had referred to Alex as some sort of soldier.

"Not right this second, but a lot. I can't shut them out." Anna shivered. "There are so many of them."

"So they locked you up because they thought you had schizophrenia," Sam said slowly, "But you were really just tuning in to angel radio? Anna, when did the voices start? Do you remember?"

"September 18th," she replied hesitantly.

"The day I got out of Hell," Dean muttered in realization.

"The first words I heard, clear as a bell, were 'Dean Winchester is saved.'," Anna told him, and he shuddered.

"What do you think?" he asked the other two.

Alex shrugged her shoulders and chewed on her lip. "It's above us, Dean, we don't know what's going on with anything when it comes to angels," she said quietly. She silently wondered what Anna knew about Barachiel, but said nothing.

"At least we know why the demons want you so bad," Dean said thoughtfully. "They get a hold of you, they can hear everything the other side's cooking. You're their direct phone line to Heaven."

Anna shook her head, grimacing. But suddenly, she gasped. "Hey! Do you know...are my parents okay? I didn't go home, I was afraid."

Though suspicious of the girl before them, Alex felt sympathy. She opened her mouth to answer, but before she could someone flew up the stairs in a hurry. She reached for her gun, but paused when they realized it was Ruby. Her eyes were wild as Anna cried out about her face and Sam reassured her that she was a friend. "You got the girl. Good, let's go. We have to hurry!"

"Why?" Alex growled, the sound rumbling deep in her chest. Anna blinked, having not expected it.

"Because a demon's coming," Ruby said, voice rising. "A big timer. We can fight later, Dean," she added when Dean scowled.

"That's pretty convenient," he drawled. "Showing up right when we find the girl with some bigwig on your tail?"

"I didn't bring him here," Ruby said, throwing her hands in the air. "You did! He followed you from the girl's house! We've got to-"

"Dean," Sam said hoarsely. He pointed to a statue nearby. Anna gasped when they realized that blood dripped from its eyes like tears." He grabbed Anna's arm and pulled her out of the main part of the room, nudging her into a closet that he'd caught sight of. His eyes were firm as he ordered her to stay hidden.

Alex yanked her blade free. "This is bloody ridiculous. Stupid angels. Bah!" She spat, looking more like a feline than a canine as she bristled at Dean's smirk. She scowled however when Ruby scoffed at Sam pulling out a flask of holy water.

"No, this isn't the time. You've got to pull him right away." Ruby narrowed her pretty eyes at Dean, glaring when he outright said no. "Now's not the time to bellyache about Sam going dark side. He does his thing and exorcises that demon or we-"

There wasn't time to finish discussing the matter. The doors to the church flew open and within moments, a demon had climbed the stairs to stand before them. The holy water slid from Sam's fingers as he threw a hand up in attempt to exorcise him, but it did no good, and the demon threw its head back to laugh. "That tickles." He gave Sam a cruel look. "You don't have the juice to take me on, Sam." He suddenly threw Sam to the side. Sam struck the ground with a gasp, the breath driven from him, and Alex ducked behind a statue with a pounding heart, the smell of sulfur stuck in her nose.

"Hello again, Dean," the demon purred after overpowering the eldest Winchester. Dean's head snapped around when Ruby suddenly yanked Anna from her hiding place, the woman screaming. "What, don't you recognize me? Oh, I forgot. I'm wearing a pediatrician. But we were so close in Hell."

"Alastair," Dean croaked. Alex slunk past the statue, blade clasped tightly in her hand, but Sam beat her to the punch, lunging at Alastair and picking up the demon blade at the same time. He plunged it into Alastair, but he only laughed.

Alex shivered.

This was one powerful demon. She backed away towards the stairs they'd climbed and then fled down them, her lips pressed together. She doubted the blade she held could do much good.

"You're going to have to try a whole lot harder than that, son," Alastair laughed, pulling out the knife.

Sam fisted a hand in Dean's shirt, dragging him back towards the stained-glass window that Anna had drawn so long ago. Alastair studied the knife and then tossed it aside. "Come on, boys, is this all you've got?"

Dean took one look at Alastair.

And then he flung himself and Sam through that beautiful window.

* * *

"Bloody hell," Alex said darkly as she carefully sutured a cut on Sam's arm, her blue eyes full of annoyance. He hissed in pain. "You idiots jumped out of a window."

"You've said that like eighty times, Alex," Dean gritted down, clutching his arm. "Are you almost done?"

"I'm going as fast as I can," she retorted. "I'm not the one who jumped out a window! Let the smart person work!"

"Well, you know, just got a dislocated shoulder." Dean's voice cracked in pain as he paced back and forth. He stopped to grab the bottle of alcohol Alex had been using to clean Sam's wound. He chugged half of it and then handed it over when Alex waved for it. She poured it over the wound and Sam swore under his breath.

"I'll pop it in now, move," Alex huffed. "I didn't expect to be caring for a pair of six foot tall babies when I signed up for hunting with the Winchesters." Of course, she hadn't expected a lot of what had come…

"You lost the magic knife," Dean muttered to his brother as Alex rubbed her hands together.

"Yeah, saving your ass," Sam retorted, examining the neatly stitched injury. "Who the hell was that demon?"

"No one good," Dean said grimly. "We've got to find Anna."

"Ruby's got her," Sam said reassuringly. "I'm sure she's okay."

"Alright, you big baby. Three-" Alex forced Dean's shoulder back into place with a sudden jerk and he yelped, swearing just as badly as his brother had. Grimacing and rubbing the spot, Dean glared at her and she glared right back. "What?" she challenged. "Honestly, Winchester. It's going to hurt. I didn't make it worse than it was."

Ignoring that comment, Dean rolled his shoulder despite Alex telling him not to and huffed, "Are you sure about Ruby? 'Cause I think it's just as likely that she used us to find radio girl and then brought that demon in to kill us, Sam."

"I'm with Dean on this," Alex piped in. "She's a demon, Sam. They aren't going to randomly just start helping us out."

"You're always with Dean on things like this," Sam said with somewhat of a pout. "Anyways, I'm sure. She took Anna to keep her safe."

"Then why hasn't she called to tell us where she is?" Dean challenged.

"Because that demon is probably watching us right now, waiting to follow us right back to Anna again," Sam retorted with a scowl, bothered by the way they kept challenging his thoughts. "That's why he let us go. Look, killing us would've been no problem to that thing. That's why, for now, we just have to lay low and wait for Ruby to contact us."

"How's she gonna do that?" Alex demanded in exasperation. "Why the bloody hell do you trust a demon so much, Sam?"

"I already told you," he huffed.

"You've got to do better than that," Dean muttered, running a hand down his face. "And I'm not trying to pick a fight here. I really want to understand, but I need to know more before I can, Sammy."

Sam looked his brother in the eye and said quite firmly, "Because she saved my life."

"Excuse me?" Alex said, raising an eyebrow.

"After you left," he began, waving her bothered look off, "I went out and got drunk. Ruby showed up with some other demon and attacked me. Don't look like that," he added when Dean scoffed. "She killed the other demon and we left. I was just trying to use her to get Dean out...she sucked up to Lilith to show back up and whatever. So when I found out I had no use for her, I dumped her on the side of the road. I told her to get out of the person she was in. She did what I told her to do and then left to go and find a new body. I took the woman she'd been riding home.

"She showed back up a few days later," he continued, "With the body of a coma patient. She's technically still unconscious I guess. I don't even know if her soul's there or in Heaven or Hell. She said that she couldn't bring Dean back, but she could do something else for me. She wanted to use my abilities and said I could get Lilith with them. I was outright ready to go and do it."

"Don't I feel loved," Alex said bitterly. "You cut up my face and then left to hang out with a demon."

"I didn't cut up your face, Alex," he protested.

"You caused it," she retorted. "Close enough."

" _Anyways_ , the first thing I learned was that I'm a crappy student. We caught a demon and I couldn't...well, you know. I had to practice, but it wasn't working. I...She said that she remembered what it was like to lose someone and that she was sorry."

"She's dead and been a demon for centuries," Alex muttered under her breath, earning a glare from Sam.

"Are you going to keep interrupting me?" he demanded. "'Cause I can stop right there."

"She's shutting up," Dean promised, shooting the grouchy skinwalker a sharp look. She rolled her eyes but pressed her lips together. "Anything else?"

"Uh…" Sam faltered now. Alex's eyebrows rose when he admitted, "We had sex."

"Excuse me?" Dean said with a blank look. There was a few moments of silence. Alex made a sound of disapproval, but Dean finally just said, "Sam?" He looked at Dean expectantly, grimacing. "Too much information."

"I was just coming clean like you wanted," he replied.

"Yeah, but now I feel dirty. Uh, brain-stabbing imagery aside… All you've told us about the thing is that Ruby's a manipulative bitch who...uh, well, screwed you, played mind games with you, and did everything in the book to get you to go bad."

"I can't believe you shagged a demon," Alex muttered, furrowing her brow. "I mean, I know humans aren't all into shagging the rest of us supernatural creatures, but really, Sam? You chose a demon?"

Ignoring her, Sam scowled and continued his story.

"After a while, I put together some signs. Omens. I found where Lilith was, and I wanted to strike her first. Ruby said it was a bad idea, warned me that it was practically a kamikaze attack. She accused me of not wanting to survive the fight and said that you wouldn't have wanted me to do it," he admitted to Dean. "I went in anyways. There was a girl...she wanted to go home.

"I was ambushed. Lilith apparently couldn't make it and Ruby helped me out, killing one of them and ordering me to take the girl and go. I got the girl out and then went back and helped her and we got out of there pretty quickly after that.

"Ruby came back for me." Sam sat back, his eyes locked on them. "Whatever you have to say...she saved me. More than that, she got through to me when you couldn't, Alex, when Bobby couldn't. She said things that you would have said, Dean. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be here."

Alex said nothing, only made a low sound in her throat and snapped her gaze away from him, agitated. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and a woman called, "Housekeeping!"

"Not now!" Dean replied.

"Sir," the maid retorted in an odd voice. "I've got clean towels."

Dean groaned and made his way over to the door. He opened it to tell the maid to leave - only for her to shove past him with a cart, her eyes fiercely glaring. "Couldn't you leave 'em at the door?" Dean muttered.

"I'm at this address," the maid replied, smacking a paper into Sam's fingers. He jolted in surprise, demanding to know what she was talking about. "Go now, through the bathroom window. Don't stop, don't take your car, don't pass go. There are demons in the hallway and in the parking lot."

Alex wrinkled her nose. The cracked door had let air fill the room, air filled with the scent of sulfur. "Ruby?" she muttered.

"Okay, yes," she huffed, hands on her hips. "So I'm possessing this maid for a hot minute. Sue me." They gave her a horrified look and she rolled her eyes. "Coma girl is slowly rotting on the floor back at the cabin I'm in with Anna, so I've got to hurry. See you when you get there." They didn't move. "Go!"

She left out the open door and the three hunters exchanged long looks before Sam scampered for the bathroom with Dean and Alex not far behind.

* * *

"Glad you could make it," Ruby said as she let them into the cabin she'd brought Anna to. It earned her a nasty look from the cranky skinwalker. Alex stalked past her and found Anna quickly, asking if she was okay.

"I'm fine for now," Anna said quickly, serious. She smiled reassuringly at Alex. "Ruby's not like other demons. She saved my life."

"I hear she does that," Dean huffed. "I guess I owe you for...Sam," he added with a reluctant look at Ruby. "I just wanted to...you know…"

"Don't strain yourself," she replied, but looked pleased.

"Okay, then. Moment over?" She nodded. "Good, 'cause that was awkward."

"Sam!" Anna suddenly gasped, turning her gaze on the tall Winchester when he ducked inside. A hopeful look entered her eyes as she pleaded, "Would it be safe to make a quick call to my parents? To let them know I'm okay? They must be completely freaked."

No one said a word and Anna narrowed her eyes. "What? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," Alex said softly, touching her arm. "I'm sorry, Anna, I know it hurts…"

Anna looked heartbroken. "They...they can't be… Why is this happening to me?"

"I don't know," Sam said gravely.

Her tears vanished suddenly and she shuddered. "They're coming."

"Back room," Dean ordered and Sam hastily led her away when Ruby told them where to go. Ruby questioned the location of the demon knife and Dean grunted. She glared. "Hey," Dean huffed, "Don't look at me. It's his fault."

"Thanks a lot," Sam retorted, scowling.

"Don't they have impeccable timing?" Alex said sarcastically and then whirled on her heel, blade yanked out as the doors of the cabin flew open. Her jaw dropped when Castiel and Uriel stepped in, their faces grave and fierce.

"Please tell me you're here to help," Dean said hopefully, "We've been having demon issues all day."

"Well, I can see that," Uriel said with a look of disgust, curling a lip at Ruby. "You want to explain why you have that stain in the room?"

Castiel turned his sharp blue eyes on Alex. "We're here for Anna," he said with his voice leaving no room for argument.

"Here for her how?" was the response he received from Sam.

"Stop talking," Uriel ordered. "Give her to us?"

"Are you going to help her?" Alex demanded, scowling at Uriel and earning a hateful look back.

"No," Castiel said with a sigh, his eyes filling with disapproval when he looked at Uriel.

"No. She has to die."

* * *

 _Shorter chapter. I cut out a lot apparently. Thanks to the reviewer (Trench gun!) as well as any who favorited and followed!_


	22. Heaven and Hell

**| November 14, 2008 |**

"Why the hell would you want to kill her?" Dean demanded as Uriel turned a hateful gaze on him. "Okay, I know she's wiretapping your angel chats, but that's no reason to gank her!"

Alex bared her teeth and growled, daring the angels to try anything particularly bad. "Don't worry," Uriel sneered at her. "I'll kill her gentle."

"You're heartless sons of bitches," Dean snarled.

"Your point?" Castiel sighed, as if impatient for this conversation to be over. His cold blue eyes roved over them, as if trying to detect where the girl would be hiding.

"Anna's an innocent girl," Sam began, his dark eyes flashing, but Castiel cut him off almost immediately with a scoff.

"She is far from innocent."

"She's worse than this abomination you've been screwing," Uriel told Sam as he curled his lip at Ruby. Ruby stiffened, glaring furiously and clearly bothered by what she was being called. "Now give us the girl!"

"Get yourself another one," Alex barked, her lips pressing together as she shifted.

"Who's going to stop us?" Uriel challenged. He suddenly stepped forward, throwing Ruby. She shrieked as she hit the ground a couple feet away, rolling onto her knees and gasping for air that wouldn't come to her lungs. She wheezed. "You?" He laughed. "The Soldier? This _demon whore_?"

Alex snarled, ready to use her teeth when he grasped her by the front of her shirt. She slashed with her blade and he caught her wrist. Suddenly, he froze, gawking at the weapon openly even as Cas sent Sam tumbling to the ground unconscious. Dean lunged at the angel, but he sidestepped, furrowing his brow when Uriel staggered away from Alex and turned to punch Dean in the jaw.

And just like that, they were gone. A light, white and bright, engulfed them and they were nowhere to be seen. Alex exchanged a look with Dean, heaving for air as Ruby darted over to check on Sam, who had begun to stir with a groan. Together, Dean and Alex shot for the backroom. "Anna?" Alex cried, covering her nose at the scent of blood.

"I'm fine!" she gasped. She knelt among a small puddle of blood that also slicked her arms. Behind her, drawn on a mirror in the red liquid, was an odd sigil that Alex could openly say she'd never before seen. "Are they gone?"

"Did you kill them?" Dean retorted, bewildered as he studied the sigil. His green eyes darted to Alex's blue and they exchanged a wary look. Neither were fond of the unknown.

"No," Anna breathed, "I sent them far, far away."

"Anna, love," Alex said, exhaling sharply. She stepped over to help Anna to her feet and Anna leaned heavily into her, grabbing her arm. "What is that?"

"I don't know," she answered, grimacing. "I don't know where that came from...I just...it came to mind and I did it." Alex shook her head to herself and led her out of the room. Sam had went to sit on the bed, cradling his head with a pained grimace. Ruby had disappeared for the time being, leaving just as they came out and closing the door behind her.

"What do you think they meant by 'she's not innocent'?" Sam rasped as they came out. Dean showed him the picture he'd made sure to grab of the bloody sigil as Alex led Anna to a bathroom to wash her arms off, keeping an ear on the conversation that Anna couldn't hear. "I mean, they want her bad and not because of the angel radio thing. That...that blood spell is serious crap."

"Something's weird," Dean agreed, and Alex heard the springs of the mattress squeak as he sat beside his brother. "See if you can find anything out, okay?"

"What are you gonna do?"

"Anna may have sent the angels to the outfield," Dean said gravely in response, "But sooner or later, they're gonna be back. We've got to get ourselves safe. And soon."

* * *

Cracking her knuckles, Alex fought to keep herself from throttling the annoying demon beside her as Dean spoke quietly with the woman who was seated in the center of Bobby's salt-drenched panic room. She made a snide comment that Dean returned and then threw something at him.

"Hex bags?" Dean questioned, passing one to Anna.

"Extra crunchy," Ruby said, flashing her teeth. "They'll hide us from angels, demons." She eyed Alex with narrowed eyes. "I doubt it'll help you though, so I didn't bother to make you one."

Alex growled low in her throat. "I literally go everywhere they do, you daft slag."

Ruby didn't look offended, but she also didn't seem to understand what Alex had called her, so she turned away as Dean explained the hex bag to Anna and then asked if she'd heard anything useful.

"It's quiet," Anna replied, sighing softly. "Dead silence. We're in trouble, aren't we? You're scared?"

"Nah," Dean lied.

"Hey!" Sam's voice suddenly called from upstairs. "Dean! Alex!"

"Just stay here, okay?" he told Anna and then paused as he slid out of the panic room. "Ruby, keep an eye on her. Come on Alex." They trampled up the stairs to the first floor of Bobby's house. "How's the car?" was what he said before even greeting the tired Sam.

"I got her," Sam reassured. "Your car's fine, Dean. Where's-"

"Bobby? The Dominican," Alex replied, crossing her arms. She leaned her hip in the doorway that led to the basement, listening as she spoke with them. Sam spared a look her way and her scarred face tightened in thought. "If we break anything, we buy it."

"Is he working a job?" Sam asked, frowning. She shrugged in response.

"God, I hope so," Dean groaned. "I don't want that bastard relaxing in a banana hammock with a trucker cap on."

"Thanks for that image, Dean." Sams ighed. "Anyways...I didn't find much on Anna. Her parents were Rich and Amy Milton, a church deacon and a housewife."

"Riveting," Dean said.

"Shut your bloody trap, Winchester," Alex said impatiently.

"But there is something I found out," Sam continued as if they hadn't spoken. He seemed to be doing that a lot with them lately. "Turns out this latest psych episode wasn't her first. When she was two and a half, she'd get hysterical any time her dad got close. She was convinced that he wasn't her real father."

"Who was then?" Dean asked. "The plumber? A little snaking the pipes?"

"Ugh, disgusting," Alex moaned and wrinkled her nose.

"Stop confusing reality with-" Sam cut off when Alex released a warning growl. "Uh, well, look. Anna didn't say. She just kept repeating that this real father of hers was mad...like, wanted-to-kill-her mad."

"Kind of heavy for a two year old," Dean commented, finally saying something non-pointless in Alex's eyes.

"Well, she saw a kid's psychologist and grew up normal."

"Until now," Alex sighed. "What could she be hiding?"

"Why don't' you just ask me to my face?"

Alex whipped her head around so fast, the strands of loose hair on her head smacked Dean in his face. He swore, doubling over and rubbing his eyes. Ruby, who stood beside Anna with crossed arms, let her lips curve into a smile. Squinting through watering eyes, he muttered, "Nice job watching her."

"No, no, you're right," Sam sighed. "Sorry, Anna. Is there anything you want to tell us? The angels said you were guilty of something...why would they say that?"

"You tell me," Anna said bitterly. "Tell me why my life has been leveled. Why my parents are dead. I would give anything to know that right now, so you tell me."

"We could find out," Dean said suddenly, surprising them all.

"Huh?" Alex said with confusion in her gaze. She eyed him suspiciously as he pulled out his phone, turning his body away. He walked a short distance away, phone in hand. He put it to his ear, waited, and then grinned.

"Hey, Pamela…"

* * *

"This is a bloody horrible idea," Alex said, studying her phone screen as Dean helped Pamela down the stairs and into Bobby's basement. Dean announced to his brother that they were there and then looked to Alex for an explanation. But she was busy studying the name on her phone. He spared it a quick look.

"Matthew?" he questioned. "Your brother's been callin'?"

Alex pressed her lips together and shoved her phone away. "None of your concern."

"No worries, hon," Pamela hummed as she felt a little ways in front of her. "I doubt he's angry with you."

"Leave me alone about it," Alex growled.

"Hey, Pamela!" Sam called as he came to the entrance of the panic room.

"Sam!" Pamela laughed, her face turning in the direction of his voice. "Where are you?"

He stopped in front of her, eyes amused as he looked over her head at his brother and Alex. "Right here," he told her and then jumped when she groped his ass. "Uh…"

"Knew it," she said smugly. "That perky little ass of yours let me know. You could bounce a nickel off of that thing. Of course, I know it's you. Grumpy. Same way I know that Dean's to my left, Alex to my right, that's a demon, and that the poor girl right there is Anna. Oh, and that you're eyeing my rack."

Sam, who'd been unable to tear his eyes away from her fairly well-revealed breasts, flushed a little and looked away. She patted him on his chest. "Don't sweat it, kiddo. I still got more senses than most."

He looked embarrassed as Pamela sidled past him, avoiding looking at anyone. "Anna! How are you? I'm Pamela." Anna greeted her, hesitantly taking her offered hand. "Dean told me what's been going on and I'm excited to help."

"Oh," Anna said shyly, lowering her hand. She hugged herself, gaze flickering over her. "That's nice of you."

Pamela flashed her teeth. "Not really. Any chance I can dick over an angel, I'm taking it!"

"Why?" Anna replied and Alex grimaced as Pamela grinned. She'd wanted Anna to question it.

"They stole something from me," Pamela told her, removing her sunglass. Alex flinched at the white unseeing fake eyes that had replaced her real eyes. "Demon-y, right? But they're plastic. Good for business. Makes me look extra-psychic, don't you think?" She laughed. "Let's get started. Go and lay on the bed and I'll sit beside you…"

As Anna situated herself, Alex leaned over to breathe in Dean's ear, "Are you sure this is a good idea, Winchester? What if it's something that makes her into someone we have to kill? I don't like killing people I've protected."

"We'll deal with it when we get there," he said with a shrug. "Just like we do everything."

"I suppose." She rocked back on her heels as Pamela began to murmur, resting her fingers over Anna's eyes.

"Nice and relaxed," Pamela said quietly, gesturing for silence. They all stared. "I'm going to count down from five to zero. When we're at zero, you'll be in a deep state of hypnosis, got it? As I count down, just go deeper and deeper...five...four...three...two...one. Deep sleep. Every muscle calm and relaxed. Deep sleep. Can you hear me?"

"Yes," Anna breathed, her eyes shut and her body still and relaxed. "I can hear you."

"Now, Anna," Pamela murmured, "Tell me. How can you hear the angels...how did you work that spell at the cabin?"

"I don't know," Anna whispered, her voice anxious. "I just did."

"What's your father's name?"

"Rich Milton."

"Alright," Pamela continued. She seemed to think something over. "I want you to look further back, Anna. When you were young. Just a couple of years old." Anna shook her head somewhat. "It'll be okay, Anna, just one look. That's all."

"No," Anna pleaded, voice rising.

"What's your dad's name? Your real dad. Why's he angry at you?"

Alex clamped her hands over her ears as Anna screamed. "No!" she shrieked, pleading. "No! He's going to kill me!" Pamela tried to tell her that she was safe but Anna only screamed louder. The lights above their heads exploded, glass shattering and Sam flinched when a shard ran down his arm, leaving a trail of blood.

"Anna?" Dean called suddenly, stepping in and ignoring Pamela's comment that he shouldn't. He grunted when he suddenly was thrown from one side to the other, crashing into the wall.

Grimacing, Pamela placed a hand over Anna's eyes. "Wake in one, two, three, four, five. Anna? Anna, are you okay?"

Anna's eyes flickered open as Pamela removed her hand. "Thank you, Pamela," she breathed, a look of amusement crossing her features. "That helps a lot. I remember now."

"Remember what?" Alex demanded, shivering.

"Who I am," Anna replied, sitting up. Her eyes glowed with excitement, no remaining trace of fear left. Sam demanded that she explain and she turned her eyes on him. "I'm an angel."

"...what?" Alex said bluntly, bewildered.

"No way," Ruby said from where she was standing in the doorway, her eyes widening a fraction. She looked anything but pleased about this information, but was ignored as Anna climbed to her feet. Alex instinctively moved a little bit closer to the door, not exactly eager to be close to the girl now, even giving her an accusing look.

"Let's take this party upstairs, huh?" Dean suggested, rubbing his temples with a pained look.

Alex slid past Ruby with bared teeth at the demon and then ascended the stairs without hesitation, playing with the blade that she'd pulled out. Moreso for comfort than anything. The others trampled up behind her and Alex claimed a couch without prompting, her feet crossed at the ankle and her piercing blue eyes glaring at Anna the second she stepped into the room.

"Don't be afraid," Anna pleaded when they were all settled, ready to listen. "I'm not like the others."

Ruby scowled from where she stood near the fidgeting Sam. "I don't find that very reassuring, actually."

"Neither do I," Pamela drawled, dropping into the couch beside Alex. Alex didn't react, never taking her eyes off of Anna.

"So...Castiel and Uriel. They're the ones that came for me, yes?" Anna asked, gaze fluttering over to Dean. He nodded curtly and Sam questioned how she'd known them. "We were kind of in the same foxhole."

"Were they like your bosses or something?" Dean demanded, frowning. He looked stunned, clearly not having expected this turn of events.

Anna raised her chin. "Try the other way around."

Dean gave a low whistle, brows raised. "Look at you."

"Now they want to kill you?" Pamela mused, resting her chin in her open palm.

Anna shrugged. "Orders are orders." She spoke softly, not surprised. "I have a death sentence on my head, I'm sure. I disobeyed. That's the worst thing you can do as an angel...I fell."

Alex cocked her head and without looking at her, Pamela told her, "She fell from Heaven. She became human."

"Wait," Sam huffed, frowning. "I'm confused. Angels can just...become human?"

"It hurts," Anna replied, smiling bitterly. "Try cutting your kidney out. With a butter knife. I ripped out my grace." When Dean blanched, bewildered, she smiled a fraction and explained. "My grace. It's...energy. I hacked it out and fell. My mother, Amy, couldn't get pregnant. They always called me her little miracle and she had no idea how right they were."

"So...you just forgot that you were God's little servant?" Dean demanded, frowning. "How the hell do you forget something like that?"

She shrugged. "The older I got, yeah. It was harder to remember the longer I was human."

"I don't think you all appreciate how screwed we are," Ruby suddenly cut in, crossing her arms. Her eyes blazed.

Alex, though it disgusted her to do so, nodded curtly. "What she said. Heaven wants her dead and the demons just want her. They could question her, torture her. Sooner or later, Heaven or Hell is going to find her."

"I know," Anna said seriously. "That's why I'm going to get my grace back."

"You can do that?" Sam demanded, shocked.

"If I can find it."

"So...what, you're just gonna take some divine bong hit and shazam! You're Roma Downey?"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Alex demanded in exasperation, not understanding a single word he'd just said.

"Something like that," Anna answered, ignoring her.

"I like this plan," Sam murmured, frowning. "Where's this grace of yours?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, I lost track. I was falling about ten thousand miles an hour at the time."

"You mean you _literally_ fell?" Sam gave a short whistle, shocked once more. He furrowed his brow. "Could a human eye have seen it? Like a comet or a meteor?"

Anna tilted her head. "Why do you ask?"

It wasn't long before Sam had thrown books and magazines from all over Bobby's library all over the place. Alex, catching what he'd been intending, had let Dean leave to take Pamela home and had joined in with the fray, searching furiously with a cup of tea that she'd made for herself in her hand.

"Here," Sam said suddenly, hours into searching. She and Ruby paused to look his way. "In March of 1985. A meteorite vanished in the night sky over northwestern Ohio. It was sighted nine months before Anna was born and she was born in the same part of the state."

Ruby gave him a long look, raising her eyebrows. "You're pretty buff for a nerd."

They ignored her. "Look," Sam continued. "I think it was Anna."

"Then this one," Alex said, leaning over his shoulder. "The one that went over the state of Kentucky was her grace."

"Might be," Sam agreed.

"Alright," Ruby said smugly. "That just narrows it down to an entire state. Nice going, skinwalker."

Alex bared her teeth at her. "At least it's a start. What have you done, twat? Sit there and stare at-"

"I'm sorry, Sam," Ruby interrupted, and they went silent. "For bringing you into this mess. I would have kept my trap shut if I'd known. Sam...you don't want to get between these two armies. It's Godzilla and Mothra. If one side doesn't succeed, the other one will."

"So what do you want us to do?" Alex cut in, glaring. "Abandon Anna and run? Bloody hell. Look, we know the angels freak you out-"

"Forget the angels," Ruby said with a bitter laugh. "It's Alastair I'm scared of."

"Alastair?" Sam paused to look up at her.

"You met him in the church." Ruby planted her hands on her hips. "Practically the grand inquisitor downstairs. Picasso. With a razor. You should pull him out and throw him in the pit again. That is, if you weren't so out of shape."

"Enough," Alex tried to bark, narrowing her eyes, but Ruby glared piercingly at her.

"Ruby," Sam protested, not pleased that a fight seemed to be getting ready to break out.

"No," Ruby snapped. "You abilities are getting flabby, Sam!"

"Yeah," he challenged. "So how do I tone up?"

Ruby scowled. "You know how. You know what you have to do."

He shook his head, firm. "i'm not doing that anymore."

Ruby made a sound of disgust. "Then you and the skinwalking bitch better pray that Anna gets her groove back, or we're all dead. And then you'll never make up with that brother of yours."

"Then how about you stop standing around and help us look?" A grouchy Alex snarled at her. Shooting to her feet, she said stiffly to Sam, "I need some air, and it sounds like Dean just got back. I'm going to make sure he didn't get drunk on his way back in."

"Alex-" Sam protested, but she was already heading out the door, her blue eyes blistering. She paused to set her tea down and then slid outside, shoving her hands unhappily into her pockets as a chilly wind picked up.

Anna stood outside, looking at the stars as Dean climbed out of the Impala, and Alex grumpily stood a foot away from her. Anna spared her a sympathetic look, as if recognizing that the demon was the source of Alex's black mood, but Alex didn't acknowledge her, instead asking Dean, "Did Pamela get home okay?"

Dean gave a curt nod, pocketing the Impala's keys. "She said she was sorry," he added, "It's just...she uh, said this is a little too rich for her blood."

Alex grimaced in sympathy. Anna murmured, "I don't blame her. You guys should do the same."

"Well, we're not that smart, eh?" Dean elbowed Alex as he joined them and she rolled her eyes, kicking him in the shin. He turned a thoughtful look on Anna. "Can I ask you something? What do they want me for, Anna? Why did they save me?"

"Me, too," Alex agreed. "What would they need me for?"

Anna shook her head. "I'm sorry. The angels aren't talking about it. And it was after I fell." She waved at Alex. "I only know that you're needed to follow orders where Dean can't."

She scoffed, and Dean gave her an amused look before continuing. "Why would you fall? Why would you want to be a human?"

Anna's lips curved into a smile. "You don't mean that."

"I don't? A bunch of...miserable bastards. Eating, confused, afraid."

"I don't know," Anna hummed. Her gaze flickered warmly to Alex, though she didn't return the look. "There's loyalty...forgiveness. Love."

"Pain," Alex said bitterly.

"Chocolate cake," Anna replied with a small laugh.

"Guilt," Dean added.

Anna's eyes flashed. "Sex."

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "You've got me there."

"I mean it," Anna said softly, rocking back on her heels. "Every emotion, even the bad ones. It's why I fell. It's...it's why I'd give anything not to have to go back. _Anything._ "

"Feelings are a bloody waste of time," Alex grumbled, though she didn't look entirely convinced by her own words. She ran a hand down her face.

"Beats being an angel."

"How's that possible?" Dean shook his head with a frown. "You guys are powerful and perfect. You don't doubt yourselves, or God, or anything."

"Perfect," Anna said wryly. "Like a marble statue. Cold...no choices...only obedience. Do you know how many angels have actually seen God? Seen his face? Four angels. _Four_. And I'm not one of them."

"That's it?" Alex said, bewildered. 'How do you even know that there is a God then?"

"We have to take it in faith," Anna explained. "We're killed if we don't have it. I was stationed on Earth for two thousand years. Just watching...silent. Invisible. Out on the road. Sick for home. Waiting on orders from a father I can't begin to understand. So don't tell me that-" She paused when Dean threw his head back and laughed. "What is so funny? What?"

"Nothing," he rasped, waving them off. "I'm sorry, it's just...I can relate."

Alex tilted her head a fraction and then glanced back when Sam peeked out of the house. He called for their attention and frowned when he saw Alex. "Didn't Alex tell you? We found something. Maybe."

It earned Alex a sharp look from both angel and hunter. She shrugged. "Conversations," she sighed. She started for the house, grimacing. She felt like some kind of third wheel around both Sam and Ruby and then Anna and Dean, and it was beginning to upset her.

"Union, Kentucky," Sam said as they entered Bobby's library, his hands on his hips. "Found some accounts of a local miracle. In '85, there was an empty field outside of town. Six months later, there was a full-grown oak. They say the tree looks at least a century old."

"Anna?" Dean questioned, looking at her.

She gave a breathless smile, excited. "That's it. Where it hit, it could have easily done that."

"So grace ground zero," Dean said. "It's not destruction, it's-"

"Pure creation," Anna finished.

"Oh, look at you bloody morons. Aren't you the cutest couple." Grouchy still, Alex grabbed her phone from her pocket and walked out again, stripping as she went much to Anna's surprise. Within moments, she'd taken on her canine form, picking everything up in her mouth and giving them long looks.

She flicked an ear.

 _Are we leaving or not?_

* * *

After a long car ride in which Alex forced Ruby and Anna to sit too close for their liking because she was reluctant to switch into her human form and discovering that Anna's grace was no longer where she'd left it, they decided to stop in an abandoned barn off the interstate and take a break. Sam wanted to discuss where to go from there on, something Alex was interested in but had no wish to talk about if her form was anything to go by.

"We've still got the hex bags," Dean was arguing. "I say we head back to the panic room."

"What?" Ruby challenged. "Forever?"

"I'm thinking out loud," he protested, and then nudged Alex, who had spread out at his feet, with a foot. "You got anything."

She snorted.

"You call that thinking?" Ruby sneered, earning some protests from Sam. "Anna's grace is _gone_! You understand?! She can't angel up and protect us. And we can't fight Heaven and Hell. One side? Maybe. We sure as hell can't fight both."

Alex bared her teeth at Ruby, who scowled right back, and all of them were cut off which Anna spoke.

"The angels are talking again."

"What are they saying?" Sam asked gently, far more patient than the rest of them.

"It's weird," Anna whispered. "A recording, a loop. 'Dean Winchester gives us Anna by midnight, or…'" She faltered and Dean urged her to speak. "'We hurl him back to damnation.'"

"No," Dean said immediately. His hands began to shake, his eyes wide.

Alex growled deep in her throat and hauled herself to her paws as Sam asked urgently, "Anna! Do you know of any weapon that works on an angel? To kill them?"

"Alex's weapon, perhaps." Anna's gaze darted to the skinwalker. "But other than that, nothing we could get to before midnight."

"I say we call Bobby," Dean tried, his voice strained. "Get him back from hedonism."

"Dean," Sam sighed, "What's he going to tell us that we don't already know?"

"I don't know! But we have to think of something!" Losing his temper, Dean kicked fiercely at the ground, and Alex had to jump away to avoid the blow with a glare. He stormed out of the barn, muttering under his breath.

"Alex-" Sam began, and she flashed him a wolfish grin before trotting after him. She disappeared out of the barn, her tail flicking behind her. Her ears flicked back once and then pricked again.

Shouldn't Sam have been the one chasing after his brother? Like she'd be able to do anything to help him. She shifted forms as she approached the Impala, where Dean was shuffling through things in the trunk. He didn't even spare her a look as she retrieved her clothes from the back seat and began to tug them on.

"Dean," she began as she was buttoning a pair of jeans. "Sam and I won't let you go back to Hell."

He snorted. "Sure about that? Sam, hell no. Not so sure about you, mutt."

Alex bit back a stinging retort and counted backwards from ten as she turned to face him. "If I had wanted to send you back to Hell," she said lightly, "I would have done so the second you showed up in front of me."

"You tried," he pointed out.

"Because you'd come back from the dead," Alex sniffed, "Not because you deserved to go back to Hell." She cast him a look out of the corner of her eye. "Contrary to popular belief, I do not hate you. Maybe when you shot me last, but not now. I believe you deserve a great amount of respect for coming out of Hell without flinching at every twist and turn. I wouldn't say I _like_ you, but I respect you."

He turned on her with a look of surprise in his green eyes. "Do you now?"

Alex grinned, proud that she'd effectively dragged him back to Earth. "Yes. Hullo, Anna," she added, glancing over her shoulder when the angel hesitantly approached, her eyes troubled. "Doing okay?"

"Trying," she murmured. "I'm a little scared, I guess. I just…" Her gaze slid between them. "I wanted to thank you. All of you. For everything. You guys didn't have to help me, yet-"

"Let's can the 'thanks for trying' speech," Dean sighed. "Participation trophies suck ass."

"The bloody hell are you talking about?" Alex muttered, lost.

That earned a somewhat amused look from Anna, who looked towards the stars. "I've been thinking. Maybe I don't deserve to be saved."

"Don't talk like that," Alex said angrily.

"I disobeyed," Anna continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Lucifer disobeyed, too, you know. It's our number one rule to not disobey, and I knew. Perhaps I need to pay-"

"We've all done things we need to pay for," Alex retorted. Annoyed that she'd spent the countless hours trying to help a woman who was now claiming she didn't necessarily deserve it, Alex turned to Dean. "Don't stay out late. We don't know when the demons are coming. Or the angels. And if my blade is the only weapon we can use, it's best you all stick close to me." She smirked proudly and then sauntered back into the barn, where Sam waited with an anxious expression.

"I hate helping people," she growled as she stalked past him. "Your brother feels better, but Anna's thinking she doesn't deserve us now."

Sam looked bewildered. "What?"

She gave a crooked smile. "Yeah. And you know...if a fallen angel doesn't deserve to be saved, then what the hell are we doing, still walking this planet and trying to help others? If helping a fallen angel gets Winchester number one sent back to Hell, then where am I going when I die?"

"That makes no sense, Alex," Sam began, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

Without another word, phone in hand, Alex made her way over to a dark corner of the barn, where she dropped to sit with her face to the barn doors, her eyes locked on her phone.

She pressed her lips together.

"'Come home,'" she read aloud with a bitter smile.

 _And just where is that, Matt?_

* * *

"I hate angels," Alex announced the next morning. Her blue eyes blazed with anger, and she curled her lip in disgust when Dean strode past her. She recoiled, covering her nose. He rolled his eyes and paced back and forth.

"Where's Ruby?" Sam muttered, fidgeting as well. His lips pressed together, and he exchanged a concerned look with Anna, who didn't seem to mind the demon all that much. Anna was calmly standing there, hands folded, understanding that her grace was in Uriel's grasp.

"Little early for that, isn't it?" she said suddenly when Dean took a swig from a flask.

"It's two in the morning' somewhere," he pointed out.

Alex suddenly pricked up. Her body coiled, ready to fight. A moment later, the doors to the barn they'd camped out in - or at least Sam and Alex had camped out in - flew open and Castiel and Uriel strode in, faces set in stony looks. "Hello, Anna," Castiel said bluntly. "It's good to see you."

Sam's lips parted. "How?" he rasped. "How did you find us...Dean?"

Alex's head snapped around when he rasped, "I'm sorry, Anna."

"You gave her up?" Alex whispered in mock horror. She narrowed her eyes at the eldest Winchester.

Anna gave them a kind look. "It's fine. Because they gave him a choice, he gave me to them. They kill me, or they kill Sam and send him to Hell. I know how their minds work." Anna took a step in the angels' direction and then faltered. She suddenly stepped over to Dean's side and drew him down into a kiss that had Alex blanching and turning away from them.

"You did the best you could," Anna murmured, resting her forehead against his. Her eyes flashed. "I forgive you. No more tricks, no more running," she continued aloud, turning to the angels. "I am ready."

"I'm sorry," Castiel said, and Alex nearly believed his honest tone.

"No, you're not," Anna retorted coldly. "You don't know the feeling."

"Still," he protested, stepping forward with a look of discontent. "We have a history. It's just-"

"Orders are orders," Anna snapped. "Just make it quick!"

Before Castiel could take another step forward, another voice snarled, "Don't you dare touch a girl on that girl's head!" His head snapped around, light blue eyes narrowing suspiciously at the sight of a bloodied and pained Ruby accompanied by a smirking demon and Alastair.

Dean stiffened, an action that didn't go unnoticed by his brother, who'd joined he and Alex on the sidelines.  
"How dare you come into this room, you pussing sore," Uriel thundered furiously.

"Name-calling. That hurt my feelings," Alastair replied thoughtfully with a pout. "You sanctimonious fanatical _prick_." His gaze snapped to Anna. "Give us the girl. We'll make sure she's punished, good and proper."

"You know who we are. What we will do. I won't tell you again to _leave_ , or we will lay you to waste." Castiel seemed angry now, something Alex hadn't expected. His eyes were locked on the demons, as were Uriel's.

Alastair responded with something witty and then threw himself at Castiel. Castiel raised a hand to exorcise Alastair instantly as Urel went to work on the other demon, but nothing happened. His face alarmed, Castiel stared as Alastair cooed, "Sorry, kiddo. Why don't you go run to your daddy?"

"Oh, _hell_ no," Alex muttered as Castiel was forced to his knees, the screaming of the demon Uriel was banishing filling her ears. Dean shouted at her to stop as she threw herself at Alastair, dropping into a canine form. She latched onto his arm and ripped him forcefully away. A moment later, Dean had struck the demon with a crowbar.

"Dean, Dean, Dean, I'm so disappointed," he whined as he threw Alex away. He turned on Dean, a blade appearing in his hand. "You had such _promise-_ "

Alex remained where she was, ignoring the hot taste of blood in her mouth as Uriel suddenly shouted and Anna darted away from his reaching hands. She snapped a pendant that had hung at his throat, and a strange white light flooded into her mouth.

Alex's eyes widened as she screamed, "Shut your eyes!"

Alex whined, ducking her head, and Sam and Dean averted their gaze, turning away.

There was a moment of silence in which there was blinding light. A moment later, when they looked up, Anna was gone alongside Alastair, and Ruby's knife had clattered to the floor.

Uriel looked malicious. "This isn't over," he snarled. A moment later, he and Castiel were gone.

Rather than turning to his brother, Sam looked to Ruby. "You okay?"

She gave him a long look. "Not so much."

Alex gathered up her clothes, shifting back into a humanoid form and tugging them on as Dean demanded, "What took you so long to get here?"

"I'm sorry," Ruby drawled, agitated. "I was only being tortured."

Even Alex flashed her a look of sympathy.

"I've got to hand it to you, Sammy," Dean continued, looking to his brother. Sam glanced over. "Bringing all of them together. At once...angels and demons. It was a damn good plan."

"Yeah, well," Sam said breathlessly. "When you've got Godzilla and Mothra on your ass, best to get out of their way and let them fight."

"Now you're just bloody bragging," Alex told him.

"So...Anna's some big-time angel now, huh?" Sam said after a moment. "She must be happy. Wherever she is."

Dean only looked away. "I doubt it."

Something had Alex nodded alongside him in agreement.

Despite her hatred for both demons and angels…

At least that sex-driven angel deserved happiness.

* * *

"Ooh, this feels _lovely_ ," Alex practically purred, lowering her shades to peek over the top at the amused Dean. He was leaning against the side of the car with Sam, both giving her amused looks as they drank the beers in their hands. "Despite the time of year, of course."

Sam gave her a look of amusement. "Welcome to the US, Alex."

She pouted. "We have rain. All day every day of every year."

Dean suddenly cracked a grin. "That explains why you're always bitchy. Rainin' on your parade every day must get boring." His eyes danced as she turned a nasty look on him and bared her teeth before chugging the rest of her bottle of beer.

After a few moments of peace, Dean spoke. "I know you heard him, Sam."

"Who?" Sam replied, confused.

"Alastair. What he said...about how I had promise. Aren't you curious?"

"I'm damn curious," Sam admitted. "But you're not talking about Hell. And I'm not pushing."

"it wasn't four months you know," Dean said after a few moments more, grimacing. Alex rolled onto her stomach atop of the Impala's hood, arching a brow curiously. "Four months up here, but down there...time's different. It was more like forty years."  
The annoyance on Alex's face vanished, replaced with horror. "Oh, my God," she breathed, and Dean gave a wry smile, looking uncomfortable, his shoulders tight as he continued.

"They sliced and carved and tore at me in ways that...until there was nothing left. Suddenly, I'd be whole. Like magic. Just so they could start in all over. And Alastair, at the end of every day? He would come and make me an offer. To take me off the rack if I put souls on." Dean faltered, and Alex furrowed her brow.

"If you started torturing, you mean?" she offered.

"Mhm. Every day, I told him to stick it where the sun shines." Dean gave a smile that could only be described as broken. "For thirty years I told him. But then I couldn't do it anymore, Sammy," he huffed, turning to his brother. "I couldn't. I got off that rack. God help me, I got right off it, and I started ripping them apart. I lost count of how many souls."

"Dean," Sam said as his brother pressed his face into his hands, looking ready to cry. He rested a hand on Dean's shoulder, squeezing. "You held out for thirty years. That's longer than anyone would have lasted."

Alex murmured her agreement. "You did a damn good job, Dean."

But Dean couldn't be comforted and only shook his head. When he lifted it, his cheeks were stained with tears, and Alex's eyes widened.

"This...inside me. I wish I couldn't feel anything. I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing."

* * *

 _I strongly detest Anna for a reason I can't recall. Thanks to reviewers (yorusorra and Trench gun!) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	23. After School Special

**| January 29th, 2009 |**

Well over two months later found Alex grouchily resting with her head tossed back against the passenger seat of the Impala, Dean dozing in the driver's seat with an almost amused look on his face.

Two months. Two months had passed since everything with Anna had gone down and the hunters had seen nothing in regards to the angels. Not that any of them minded. It was somewhat of a good thing for them, naturally. But it was still stressful, not knowing when one was going to pop up…

Suddenly, Dean turned to face her. He hadn't been dozing so much as thinking, she realized, and she arched a slim brow at him with a patient look on her scarred face. "So you wanna explain why the hell your brother's spammed my phone with like eighty calls? How did he even get my new number?"

She grimaced. "Right," she muttered, rubbing the back of her head awkwardly after pushing herself upright. "Uh...Matt probably listened to my newest voicemail, which says that if it's an emergency to call yours or Sam's numbers."

"Okay," Dean said slowly, "But why is he calling period?"

Alex pressed her lips together, blue eyes searching his before she looked out the windshield and beamed. "Winchester number two is coming back with information!" Sure enough, Sam, dressed in hilariously white hospital orderly clothes, was coming back.

"Don't think you're getting out of this conversation," Dean warned, and then turned in his seat to look at his brother as Sam ducked into the vehicle, grimacing at how his long legs had to be folded up. He kicked at his brother's seat, but Dean smirked and left it where it was. "So?"

"I think she's telling the truth," Sam told them, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, the way she talked about being there mentally, but not physically...kind of sounds like demonic possession to me."

"What do you mean _kind of_?" Alex demanded, glancing over.

"She didn't see the smoke or smell any sulfur," he sighed.

"Maybe it's not a demon," Dean pointed out. "I mean, kids can be vicious."

Alex snorted. "If a girl randomly slammed another girl against a mirror and sink until she was dead from head trauma is out of viciousness of children...you're not thinking right. Even I wasn't that vicious."

"We might as well go check out the school," Sam suggested, and Alex eagerly nodded. "That isn't so you can look and snoop about American schools, Alex," he added.

She pouted. "Excuse me, but I never went to proper school. I never attended classes."

"How'd you manage that?" Dean demanded, bewildered.

" _Hullo_ ," she huffed, waving at herself. " _Skinwalker_. Bloody hell, I've known you twats for over a year, do you not remember that?"

"Anyways...Truman High," Dean drawled. "Home of the Bombers...we went there for a month. A million years ago. Why the hell are you so determined to get us back in there?"

"You went to school there?" Alex looked joyful at the idea of getting to see an American school in which they'd attended. " _Definitely_ worth looking into!"

"Okay," Dean said slowly, giving her a dirty look as Sam agreed. "Well, what's our cover? FBI? Homeland Security?"

Sam only flashed them a quick grin. "I've got an idea."

* * *

"I'm going to bloody murder you, Winchester number two," Alex seethed as she strode past him, stalking down the hallway of Truman High School. Her heels clicked mercilessly on the tile, and he only flashed her a quick grin before going back to work.

Alex had to admit; she thought she liked how she'd dressed, in a white blouse with a black pencil skirt and a smart black jacket thrown over her top. The black heels only added to the outfit, and the lack of color only drew attention to her eyes. Of course, the scar on her face drew most of the attention, but she pretended not to notice the stares of others as she stepped into the gymnasium, a file in hand.

She nearly choked on spit when she saw Dean, dressed in a pair of tight red shorts and a white shirt, a weird sweatband on his head. A whistle hung at his neck, and she paused, leaning back against the wall as he paced back and forth in front of a line of children, who all looked nervous.

"Today," he was saying, not even sparing her a look unlike a curious boy, who was peering over his shoulder at her. "You will have the honor of playing one of the greatest games ever invented. A game of skill, agility, cunning. A game with one simple rule." His gaze locked onto the boy who wasn't paying attention. "Dodge."

And then he hurled the red ball in his hands as hard as he could at the boy's stomach. The boy failed to dodge and grunted as he doubled over, clutching his stomach.

Alex grimaced in sympathy. Dean's blows were painful.

"Sorry," he said without sympathy.

"Uh, Substitute Coach Roth?" a terrified boy whispered, raising his hand. Dean's sharp eyes darted to him and he faltered before continuing. "Ms. Boudreaux never let us play dodgeball."

Dean stopped in front of him, eyes narrowing and Alex grinned, sensing danger. "Well, Ms. B's in Massachusetts getting married, so we're playing."

"She says it's-"

Dean blew a sharp whistle, and Alex hissed softly in pain, grimacing. The boy flinched. "Take a lap, Colby!"

Dean finally caught sight of Alex and she wiggled her fingers playfully at him. He rolled his eyes and then let loose a massive bag of balls. "Go nuts, kids," he told them and they all went to work as Dean strode over to her.

"Having fun?" Alex teased as he stopped in front of her.

He smirked, gesturing to his whistle. "The whistle makes me their god. I've found my true calling at long last."

"Right," she sighed, shaking her head. "I can't believe you bloody morons wouldn't let me find a job."

He shrugged. "There was only two open spots. Find anything while you were running through?"

She shook her head and waved the file in front of him - an empty file with no information. "I walked through the school. No sulfur."

Dean frowned, telling her, "No sulfur, no demon. No demon, no case."

"I know, I know," Alex muttered, pressing her lips together as the smell of blood filled her nose. She glanced past him and arched a brow as a boy came sprinting past - the boy Dean had ordered to take a lap. She gave him a sympathetic look, but Dean only smirked at her and shouted to him, "Good hustle, Colby, walk it off!"

She shook her head and left him to continue teaching the gym class and stared down the hall again, fully intending on leaving.

Alex was heading out of the building when she first heard the screaming. She dropped her empty file and jogged down the hall, meeting Sam on the way. They exchanged a fierce look, and then burst into a room that other students were fleeing from. Their faces were full of terror and horror, and one boy stumbled along with help, missing a good portion of his hand and arm.

Alex felt sick as Sam shoved past and stood in the room, staring at a boy who had black goop oozing from his ears. "What happened?" he choked out, staring at the blood on his hands in terror.

* * *

"How's the nonviolence assembly going?" Sam asked as Dean finally emerged from the gym he'd been teaching in, trying not to laugh at his brother's clothing. Alex wore a stony expression, her eyes blazing.

"Apparently, shoving a kid's arm into a Cuisinart is _not_ a 'healthy display of anger'," Dean informed them with a mocking pout. Then he grew serious. "So, the kid had ectoplasm leaking from his ear?"

"It's got to be a bloody ghost possession," Alex insisted. "That only comes from incredibly angry spirits."

"True," Sam agreed. "As rare as it is, it happens. I mean, they get angry enough, they _can_ take control of a person's body."

"So...what? We got a ghost in the building?" Dean demanded.

"The question is where," Alex mused. "There's no EMF, I checked for that, too, and Sam did a second run through. Maybe there's a way we could find out who it is at the very least. I could check and see if somebody died in a horrid way around here or something."

"Way ahead of you," Dean told him. "I had to break into the principal's office, but…" He withdrew a paper from his back pocket. "There was only one death on campus. A suicide back in '98." They looked at him. "Some kid named barry Cook - what's with that look, Sammy?"

"I knew him," Sam said tersely. "How did he die?"

"Slit his wrists on the first floor. Girls' bathroom."

"That's where the first girl died," Alex said softly, pressing her lips together thoughtfully.

"Right, so...what? The ghost is possessing nerds?" Dean scoffed.

"And using them to go after bullies?" Sam gave a curt nod. "Yeah. Barry had a hard time. he was bullied pretty badly." He exchanged a quick look with the sympathetic Alex, and then returned his gaze to his annoyed brother.

Alex sighed softly. "Poor Barry. To his grave we go."

* * *

That night found Dean finally out of the odd clothes he'd been wearing. Alex couldn't help but tell him, "Bloody hell, is it nice to see you in normal clothing, Winchester."

He gave her a cocky grin. "C'mon, I looked great in those shorts."

"Mr. I-Don't-Wear-Shorts," Sam said darkly, emptying salt and some gasoline into the dug up coffin they'd found. He grimaced when Dean threw in a lighted match, watching as a boy who'd once been his friend went up in smoke.

"So long, Barry Cook," Dean said simply, this time without the mocking tone.

"May you rest in peace," Alex said gently.

Sam's lips kicked up into a pleased smile. They went to work on reburying the ashes of what was left when the fire finally went out. When that was done, they wandered back to the Impala that had been parked alongside a road. Alex claimed the passenger seat while the two Winchesters put away their shovel and the rest of their materials.

Dean reluctantly had handed her the keys to start the car, and she cranked up some of the music she knew he'd agree with so it wouldn't have to be changed. While she waited for them to finish, the skinwalker checked her phone.

Her lips tugged down into a grimace. The scar on her face only twisted it into a horrifying look that when she caught sight of it in the mirror on the side of the car, she quickly looked away, disgusted.

Three more missed calls from Matt and a pleading text message.

Alex took a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder. Dean and Sam were chatting about something or another - something she wasn't included in. So, she pressed the call button and put her phone to her ear with reluctance, grimacing at the fact that it was nearly two in the morning.

A sleepy voice answered, "Hello?"

She didn't reply for a moment. Finally, she said hesitantly, "Matt."

" _Alex_ ," her brother rasped, and she heard shuffling movement. "Where the _hell_ are you? I've been trying to call for days and when Dean Winchester picked up his phone - I thought he was dead, by the way - he told me to stop, that you didn't want to hear from me. Since when do random people answer for you?"

Alex blinked. "He said that?" she muttered, bewildered. She didn't remember asking him to do so. Or even earning the ability to gain such kindness from him. Deciding to think about it later, Alex rested her head on the glass and locked the car when she heard the trunk shut, not wanting to be interrupted. "We're on a job. I can't talk long."

"Alex. I haven't talked to you in almost six months - five and a half at least - and you _can't talk_?"

"We're chasing a ghost," she muttered, biting her lip. This had been a really bad idea. A knock on the glass had her glancing up. Dean glared through the window, making a 'what the hell' gesture, and she held up a finger, lowering her voice. "I've got to go...I'll call you whenever."

" _Alex_ ," he tried again, but she'd already hung up and unlocked the car doors.

"What the hell, mutt?" Dean snapped as he climbed in. She scrambled over into the back seat when Sam gave her a pointed look through the passenger side window. As he climbed in, he too looked to her for an explanation.

"Phone call. Private." Alex waved her phone around, and then swore when Dean plucked it from her fingers. "Bloody hell, give it-"

"So you _finally_ called your brother, huh?" he commented, handing it back. "So you gonna explain yourself now? Why were you avoiding him in the first place, Alex?"

Annoyed, she stuck her tongue out and then settled back. "Well, as Winchester number two is aware, I went to stay with him after our little partnership didn't work out while you were in Hell." Sam made a face, but said nothing. "So I went and stayed with Matt and his girls for a few weeks. His wife filed for a divorce and wanted custody of the children. I didn't feel like being the reason my brother lost his wife and family, so I left after purposely instigating a fight in which he may or may not have called me a disgrace to the Montgomery name and that Mum and Dad would have been ashamed to see their daughter running around turning into a mutt."

Dean gave a low whistle. "Ouch."

"Yeah. I mean, I started it, but still. That hurt." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I walked out. Haven't spoken with him until today." Her gaze slid to Sam, meeting his gaze evenly. "On top of not wanting to split up the family, I had demons trailing me after a while, so I left to keep them out of the fire."

"So that's why he left a billion calls on my phone." Dean gave her a glare for that and she shrugged.

"Don't worry," Sam sighed. "He did the same on mine."

"And _I_ am _infinitely_ curious, Dean," Alex said suddenly, turning to face him with glowing blue eyes. "On why you picked up the phone and told him I didn't want to hear from him. I mean, I appreciate it, but honestly."

Sam looked expectantly at his brother. Dean grimaced. "Like I said. A billion calls. We're leaving now. No more questions."

He turned to face the front and Sam and Alex flashed each other amused looks before both settled into their seats. Dean directed the Impala onto the main road and when they were going, he glanced over his brother, who suddenly gave a quiet sigh. "Okay, Sammy?"

"Barry was my friend. I just burned his bones."

"Not like we do it regularly in our lifestyle," Alex said under her breath, earning a glare from both. "Sorry. I'm sure he's at peace now, Sam."

Though she wasn't very sure how Heaven was with how the angels seemed to be.

"If Dad had let us stay just a little longer," Sam said suddenly, catching Dean's attention. "Maybe I could have helped the kid."

Alex perked up as Dean spoke, aware that they rarely spoke of their father. She'd asked Bobby about John Winchester once and had never dared to again. While he'd spoken with gruff respect, it had been clear that he wasn't too fond of the man.

"You read the coroner's report, same as me," Dean told Sam. "Barry was on every anxiety drug and antidepressant known to man. School was hell for him. His parents split up. He wanted out. It was tragic, but it's not our fault. To tell you the truth, I'm glad we got out of that town. I hated that school."

Sam shrugged and looked out the window, a frown on his face. "It wasn't all that bad."

No one said another word.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Alex said warily as Sam climbed out of the car, determined to go and talk with a teacher he'd once known. "I mean, what if they think we have a connection with the deaths? They would have seen you as the janitor, Winchester number two."

"I just want to talk with him quickly," Sam told her. "He's a good guy. I'll be right back."

"Well, whatever," Dean said from the driver's seat, glaring as Alex climbed into the passenger seat. "Just make it quick."

"I will," Sam promised and then bustled away.

Alex watched him go and then flinched when her phone rang. "Dear Lord," she muttered, checking the caller ID. "Call number nineteen this morning. Matt, you bloody idiot. I mentioned that we were chasing a ghost. What if we were in a situation that we wanted to be quiet? You would have just murdered us."

"If we were in a situation that we wanted to be quiet," Dean retorted, "Your phone would be on silent." He snatched it from her hands and before she could growl or say anything, he answered the call and pressed it to his ear. "Look, buddy. We're in the middle of a hunt, and quite frankly, you're pissing us all off."

Alex's sharp ears caught her brother's agitated voice demanding, "Put Alex on the phone. Why are you even answering it for her anyways?"

"None of your business. She's not here. She's checking out a possible lead." Dean settled back, ready for a long conversation. Alex tried to snatch her phone back, bristling, but he leaned out of her reach, using one hand to push her away. "Listen. She told us about your stupid little comment in the midst of a fight that she started. Can't blame her for not wanting to ever talk to you again."

"She called me! Put her on the phone! I need to talk with her, it's important!"

"If it's an emergency, you've got Dean freakin' Winchester on the phone. So tell me what's so damn important."

Alex wanted to throttle him. "You arse," she hissed softly so her brother wouldn't hear her.

Movement outside of the car suddenly caught her eye and she looked. Her eyes widened and she grabbed Dean's arm, shaking him a little before throwing the car door open and shooting over to where Sam was staggering over, her nostrils flaring at the scent of blood. "Dean!" she shouted over her shoulder.

He hung up on her brother without another word and shot out of the car. "Sammy?!"

"Fine, fine," he reassured, grimacing in pain. "I got stabbed, but it didn't hit anything important." He showed them a wound in his side, and Alex studied it, making sure he wasn't lying about it. "We need to go. I left a girl unconscious on the floor. The ghost. We didn't kill it, Dean."

"Right, but put a towel down first," Dean muttered, heading for the trunk. "I don't want your blood on my seats!"

* * *

"There," Alex said as she finished bandaging Sam's torso, flicking some loose blood from her fingers. Sam muttered a word of thanks and took a sip of the beer that Dean had given him, scowling.

"Thanks, Alex," Sam sighed again and then told Dean, "I'm telling you. We have to go around this carefully-"

"And _I'm_ telling _you_ ," Dean snarled in a deadly voice, "That ghost is dead! I'm going to rip its lungs out!" A pause. "Well, you know what I mean."

Alex snorted and reached for a new beer since hers had been thrown by a pissed off Dean. "Well put, Dean."

He glared at her.

"It knew my name, Dean," Sam murmured. "My real name. We burned Barry's bones. So what the hell?"

"Maybe it wasn't Barry?" Alex suggested as she leaned against the Impala beside him. Sam glanced at her, furrowing his brow in curiosity. Dean flipped through a file they'd gathered as she spoke. "Maybe we missed something? We just need to-"

"No way," Dean said suddenly, cutting her off. "How did we not see this before?"

Sam blinked. "What did we miss?"

"Check it out." Dean moved to stand in front of them showing them the file. "Look, Martha Dumptruck, Revenge of the Nerds, and Hello Kitty all rode the same bus."

"Nicknames unnecessary, Winchester," Alex chided, but agreed. "Maybe the bus is haunted?"

"It would explain why there's no EMF in the school," Dean said slowly. "But the attacks...they were. I mean, ghosts are tied to the places they haunt. They can't just bail."

"No, no," she disagreed. "There's a job I dealt with back home. A woman had been murdered by her husband in the back of an underground subway." She turned her blue eyes on them, widening them a fraction. "She possessed a few people. They left and she murdered someone through them and then returned to the subway. I found a few strands of hair still wrapped around a pole near the floor and just salted and burned the entire thing."

"So the ghost can possess people, ride them for miles, and then as soon as it releases them, be bunged back to their usual haunt," Sam concluded.

"Ghosts getting creative," Dean moaned. "Isn't that just great."

Alex laughed a little - and then gave a very canine-like whine as her phone went off. She pulled it out, glared at Matt's number, and then shoved it at Sam. "Your turn. Your _bloody_ turn."

Sam fumbled his beer a little, almost dropping it. "What the hell do I say?! Alex! Take it back!"

"No," she retorted, "Answer the phone and make him _stop_. How many calls did you get today, Dean?"

"Too many," he said darkly. "Change your number!"

"I can't, they get suspicious," she whined.

Sam finally just waved for silence, answered the phone, and said tiredly, "Sam Winchester speaking. Yes, hey. Hey, Matt. Uh, no, Alex isn't available right now. No, she's not secretly listening in or anything." He gave her a glare and she chugged half of her beer before giving him a small wiggle of her fingers. She looked ready to get drunk if it kept Matt off of her back. "I promise you, she's nowhere near here. Actually, Dean and I aren't really sure where she is period. She ran off not too long ago. When you talked with Dean. Just up and left. yep. No, we don't know where she went or if she's coming back."

 _Sam, you glorious bastard!_ Alex wanted to cry.

"I know, I know. It _is_ extraordinarily weird that she left behind her phone. I'll check with our friend Bobby Singer and - yes, Bobby. I know, he knew your mom or something like that. Look, listen. We'll call you when Alex shows back up, okay? So please. Your phone calls are getting in the way of calls from people who might need us." He paused. "Thank you. Yes, I swear I'll let you know. Thanks, Matt. Bye."

Sam hung up and pressed the phone into her hand. "Happy?"

She flashed him a smile. "Very. Thank you many times over, Sam."

"At long last, my phone will be free," Dean said drily. "Now. Can we stop hanging around and get a move on?"

* * *

Alex's nose was working overtime as she paced up and down the school bus with Sam and Dean. Sam was in the back at the moment, checking for EMF, and Dean was digging through the front of the bus, searching for any sort of clue. Alex paced back and forth a few times before sneezing as Sam called, "Definitely not clean."

"Here, ghosty, ghosty, ghosty!" Dean muttered. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

Alex gave him a look. _Very original, Winchester._

"I don't get it," Sam muttered. "No none ever died on this bus, and it's not like there's a body under a seat."

"All it takes is a flap of skin, a hair...hell, a hangnail. Something's got to be tying the ghost to this place. We just have to find it." Dean paused, scanning through some papers. Alex trotted over to look over his shoulder and he immediately shifted so she could see. "New driving permit was issued two weeks ago."

"Just before the first attack," Sam commented.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "The name of the bus driver is Dirk McGregor Sr. He lives on 39 North Central Avenue."

"McGregor?" Sam echoed, suddenly unhappy. "I knew his son."

Dean gave Sam a strange look. "Did you know everybody at this school?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yes, Dean, I made friends. He wasn't really a friend so much as he was a dick, though."

Alex snorted. Dean looked somewhat amused before he asked, "So are we going to go visit Dirk McGregor Sr.?"

"Probably smart. It might be someone he knows haunting the bus." Alex woofed her agreement, shook her fur out, and then bounded out of the bus, annoyed with the small spaces. Sam stepped out after her with Dean not far behind.

"To 39 North Central Avenue, then."

* * *

"So...you were friends with Dirk?"

"They were," Alex said hastily, smiling charmingly at the older man. He looked pained at the mention of his son. She felt a little guilty that they were going to interrogate him about him, even if it wasn't in a harsh way. "In high school."

"I don't recall Dirk having many friends at Truman," Mr. McGregor murmured, frowning. The group was seated in his living room, and he'd offered them all something to drink. Only Alex had accepted his offer of tea. She sipped at it, surprised that it tasted as well as it did. She was settled between the Winchesters on a couch, her shoulders brushing their arms.

"When did, uh...when did Dirk pass?" Dean asked carefully.

"What happened to him?" Sam added.

"He was eighteen," Mr. McGregor sighed, his gaze dropping. "There was...first, drinking, and then drugs, and then...well, too many drugs. He just slipped through my fingers. It was my fault. I should have seen it coming, you know? Dirk, he...he had his troubles."

"What sort of troubles, Mr. McGregor?" Alex asked gently.

"School was never easy for Dirk," he told her, smiling ruefully. "We didn't have much money and...well, you know kids. They can be cruel. They picked on him. They called him poor and dirty and stupid. They even had a nickname for him - Dirk the jerk. After what happened to his mother, he-"

"His mother?" Sam cut in, surprised, and then hastily apologized. "Sorry."

"No, no, it's fine," he reassured. "Jane, my wife. She died when Dirk was thirteen. Cancer. I was working three jobs, so it fell to Dirk to take care of her. And he was a great kid. He made sure she got her medicine. He helped her, cleaned up after her. But...watching somebody die slow, waste away to nothing...it does things to a person. Horrible things."

Alex made a soft sound of sympathy. "We didn't know. I'm sorry."

"He...he wouldn't talk about her, not even to me." Mr. McGregor looked near tears. "Lot of anger in that boy."

"We'd really like to pay our respects," Dean said, surprisingly gentle. "Um, would you mind telling us where Dirk was buried?"

"Oh, he wasn't." Mr. McGregor quickly swiped his eyes and straightened. "I had him cremated."

"All of him?" Dean's eyes flashed.

Mr. McGregor frowned at the odd question. "I kept a lock of his hair."

"Oh, nice, nice," Dean sighed, and then exchanged a quick look with Alex, who had the slightest pout on her lips. He faltered, distracted. A surprisingly nice pout-

"Where do you keep it?" Sam asked, snapping him out of it. "I'm sure it helps you feel close?"

"Very close," he agreed. "I keep it in my bible. On my bus."

* * *

"This is a very, very bad idea," Alex said anxiously as Dean finished dragging the spike strip he'd had in his trunk for some reason. She helped him straighten it. Sam was preparing a couple weapons nearby, as well as some packets of salt that would easily tear if necessary.

"Oh, shut your mouth, it'll be fine," Dean retorted as he made sure it was perfect. He swiftly joined them on the other side of the road, not bothered by the darkness of the street. "We've never done this before."

"Bloody hell, this better not kill those children," Alex fretted. "I don't like killing ghost children or even demon children. Don't make me kill innocent children, too." Dean turned to mock her, but when he saw her with a look that spoke of honest anxiety over the matter, he sighed.

"We won't end up hurting anyone, Alex," he told her. "Just a ghost and a lock of hair."

"Still…"

A sound suddenly caught her attention. "The bus is coming," she growled, rushing over to help Sam finish up. Sam tossed Dean a rope that had been soaked in salt water and he caught it, tucking it away with a wary look. Sam tossed Alex a couple and she readied them. He took a shotgun for himself.

Suddenly, just as Dean had locked the Impala, a bus roared into view. It went right over the strip she and Dean had set up. There was a loud boom as the tires - all four - blew, and the bus swerved dangerously before skidding to a halt.

Alex narrowed her eyes as people's confused voices filled her ears. The door to the bus opened and the driver stepped out. Sam took a deep breath and then approached. He cocked his shotgun and shouted, "Dirk!"

"Winchester," the driver snarled back. He didn't look pleased. "What are you gonna do?" He extended his arms mockingly. "Shoot me?"

Alex clenched her jaw, growling as Dean slunk up behind him and then lunged. He hastily wrapped the rope around him. Sam smirked. "Don't need to," Alex hummed as she moved towards the bus.

"That rope is soaked in saltwater, Dirk," Sam told him. "You're not going anywhere."

"Get the bus, Alex," Dean ordered, and she nodded, hastily storming up into the bus.

She was given several stunned looks. "All right," she told all of them. "Everybody stay where you are. You'll be okay and we'll be out of here in no time." She dropped to shuffle through various possessions.

"Holy hell," a high school boy said suddenly, gawking at her trim form from behind. "You're kind of hot."

Alex flashed him a sharp-toothed smile over her shoulder, growling warningly. "Say that again, kid. I dare you."

He clamped his mouth shut hastily.

After searching desperately, Alex threw herself out of the box, blue eyes panicked. "Winchesters! It's not here!"

"Where is it?" Sam demanded, pushing the shotgun up to the bus driver's chest. Dirk laughed fearlessly.

"Sam Winchester," he drawled. "You'll never find it. Still a bully. You jocks...you popular kids...you always thought you were better than everybody else. And to you, I was just Dirk the jerk, right? Now you evil sons of bitches are gonna get what's coming to you."

"Sam's not evil," Alex said quietly, her lips pressed together. "And neither were you. Trust us, we've seen real evil."  
"We were scared and miserable and we took it out on each other," Sam agreed, his eyes blazing. "That's high school. But you suffer through that and it gets better. I'm just sorry you didn't get a chance to see that, Dirk."

"Nothing is gonna get better for me," Dirk laughed bitterly. "Not ever."

Dean grunted, stumbling back when he suddenly broke through the rope. Sam fired the shotgun and the ghost left the driver with a scream, returning the bus. Within seconds, a smirking student - the one who'd called Alex hot, Alex realized - stepped out of the bus and tackled Sam. Sam yelped as he went down, through his hands up to protect his face when a blow caught him in the nose.

Alex's nostrils flared at the scent of blood.

"Dean!" Sam barely was able to speak, struggling. "The hair!"

"Alex, help me," Dean demanded, dropping to his knees beside the unconscious bus driver. Alex dropped beside him, both searching pockets desperately. Finally, Dean, shouting in triumph, withdrew a lock of hair. Alex fumbled with a lighter and shoved it at him after pouring salt over it.

Dean clicked the flames into view and let it burn the hair. The ghost left the student with a scream and then there was silence.

Alex could hear Sam heaving for breath beneath the large student, who seemed pretty solid for a high schooler. "Help?" he pleaded.

Dean breathlessly laughed, exchanging an amused look with Alex as he taunted, "He's giving you the full cowgirl, Sammy!"

"Just shut up and help," Sam moaned, and Alex, giggling, went to drag the student off of him, using her superhuman strength to do so.

* * *

"Bloody arses," Alex whined. She stuffed one of Sam's shirts into his duffel, imagining the brothers enjoying themselves. Yet she knew better; Sam was, in all honesty, chatting with a teacher who he said had helped him a lot in the past, and she couldn't blame him. She'd like to visit the man that had taught her everything, too.

But he was long gone, dead, killed by those who had been after him.

She was zipping up Sam's bag when the fluttering of wings caught her attention. She whipped around, snapping out her blade with a snarl, and was shocked to discover none other than Barachiel.

His green eyes flashed with amusement. "Alex."

"Barachiel," she retorted, not daring to put her black blade away. "What do you want?"

He chuckled under his breath. "Nothing. Not like the other angels. You've really upset Uriel. I dislike him. He's far too serious, and it's a delight to see him so angry." His lips curved into an amused smile. "You know, it's interesting, watching Castiel. You and the Winchester are pulling out so many curious thoughts from his mind."

"What do you mean?" Alex put her blade away, the red symbols losing their glow.

"It's good for him, I think. You see, not following orders is sometimes necessary. Unless, of course, you are the-"

"Soldier?" she retorted, cutting him off. "Yeah, I get it. I'm the Soldier. What the bloody hell do you want, Barachiel? Get lost if you're not here to talk seriously."

He grinned. "I have an order from God himself," he purred, leaning close. "An order for you, Miss Montgomery. Are you prepared to follow His command?"

* * *

 _Barachiel returns! He was a character that I somewhat created at_ _random. I'm glad he's here though. He's fun to write._

 _Trojan Prince, on the matter of the sixth season...I'd really like to continue that far. I'm hoping I do. I've actually considered a few things about it, particularly the matter of her being marked for Purgatory. Life is going to be a bitch for Alex when that comes - as you brought up, the ordeal with the Alpha skinwalker will be a big deal. I'm actually really excited you thought of this. XD_

 _Thanks to reviewers (Trojan Prince and littlesisofpercy) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	24. Sex and Violence

**| January 29th, 2009 |**

Alex stared blankly at Barachiel for a few moments, his words echoing in her ears.

 _"I have an order from God himself. Are you prepared to follow His command?"_

"Wait," she said, holding up a hand to silence him. "What are you talking about? Anna said that only four angels had-"

"Spoken with God, I am more than aware." Barachiel leaned back a little, his green eyes sharp. "I am one of them. I am the chief of guardian angels, by the way. And I specialize in lighting." He flashed her a smile. "So you can stop trying to research me."

Alex's head was spinning and she felt a little sick. "No. No way. There's no way you actually spoke with God. He doesn't exist, there's no way he could-"

"Well he does." Barachiel thoughtfully tilted his head, "And He has work for you. Keep me informed on the choices that Dean Winchester makes. I cannot track him myself with the hex bags he possesses. It is only because he has them all on him that I could find you. I will assume you can summon me."

Alex shook her head, giving Barachiel a long look.

And then she told him with a very firm voice, "No."

"No?" He looked shocked. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"You're trying to get me to spy on Winchester. He's done too much good to deserve that. So you can't find him yourself. Boo-bloody-hoo," she growled. The sound came from low in her chest and she smirked. "I'm not spying on him. If that means disobeying God's command, then so be it."

"Loyalty can be a fault, a sin even," Barachiel commented, his voice soft in warning.

"Then let me sin in peace and find someone else to spy on Dean, because it won't be me." Without another word, Alex turned back to Sam's back. She shouldered it. When she turned back to see if he was gone, the area he'd been in was empty.

A few moments later, the door opened. Dean stepped in, hand on the knob, and stopped when he saw the panicked look on her face. "What?" he demanded. "You good? Uriel stop by?"

"We forgot to leave a hex bag with you," Sam said over his shoulder apologetically.

"No," she lied, shaking her head. She gave a shaky smile, struggling to not show her alarm. "Nothing happened."

Dean shrugged and ducked inside, and Alex beamed as she handed Sam's bag to him.

"Nothing at all."

* * *

 **| February 5th, 2009 |**

Alex awoke to the sounds of low voices speaking to one another and was immediately confused and a little bit concerned. Very rarely now did her companions ever speak about work without her present. They very rarely even talked about anything without her present, usually waking her up to include her so that she knew what was going on.

Of course, she had yet to inform them of what had happened with her supposed guardian angel.

The matter had been warring in her mind for days now, the guilt ever growing.

She'd tell them when it felt right, she decided.

Purposely, she yawned loudly and stretched. She was in her canine form - it always gave her more comfort in sleep when she wasn't in a bed. Her claws clicked on the floor as she hopped down from the couch and searched out the Winchesters. Sam stood in the doorway of the bathroom, Dean sat on the bed.

"Found a job," Sam said, looking towards her. He offered her a hesitant smile and she blinked. "Bedford, Iowa. Guy beat his wife's brains out with a meat tenderizer."

"Yikes," Dean commented, making Alex snort in amusement.

"And get this," Sam continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Third local inside two months to gank his wife. No priors on any of 'em. All happily married."

"Sounds like Ozzie and Harriet."

"More like The Shining," Sam corrected with a small smirk on his face.

Alex snorted and grabbed her bag in her jaws before shouldering past him into the bathroom, grumbling as he moved.

 _Winchesters and their damn Winchester language…_

* * *

Alex squirmed a little, her nostrils flaring. She could smell the very faint rustic smell of blood on the man before her - he'd certainly killed his wife, though the look on his face said otherwise. Beside her, dressed in a suit, Dean pretended to shuffle through files.

"Why does the PD keep sending you guys?" he demanded suddenly and Dean paused to look up. "I already said I don't want a lawyer. I'm pleading guilty."

Alex felt a little bit of sympathy for him. "We understand you don't want us to represent you," she sighed, and Dean shot her a glare, closing his mouth. He'd been about to talk, apparently, and she wasn't in the mood for his sarcasm. "It's probably not a bad idea, you know. To plead guilty. We just want to understand what happened. That's all, Mr. Benson."

Benson studied her, looking alarmed that she was British, and then shook his head. "What happened was this: I killed my wife. You wanna know why? Because she made plans without asking me."

Alex could see the redness around his eyes. He'd cried a lot recently.

"When it happened," Dean questioned expertly, "What did you feel like? Disorientated, out of control? Like something possessed you to do it?"

Benson shook his head. "I knew exactly what I was doing. I was crystal clear."

"Then why?" Alex asked softly. "Why'd you do it?"

"I don't know." His voice was hollow but honest. "I loved her...we were happy."

Dean pulled a paper out of the file he'd been going through and Alex realized it wasn't fake. _When did he do research?_ she demanded silently as he placed it on the table between them and Benson. He tapped it. "Nine G's. That's a hefty bill."

Benson's lips trembled a little. "Where did you get that?"

"Doesn't matter. We have it. See," Dean began and Alex crossed her legs at the knee, arching a brow. "Certain charges, ones you don't want the missus to know...they show up under shady names like 'M & C Entertainment'."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Like dropping plastic at a nudie bar for instance," Dean continued.

"We just want to know the truth, Mr. Benson," Alex urged in a gentle voice, smiling gently at him. "Please."

"Her name was Jasmine," he rasped after meeting her gaze for a few moments, breaking beneath her pleading look. "I didn't...I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't like to go to stripper bars. My buddy was having a bachelor party...she was there." He dropped Alex's gaze and looked down at his hands. "She came right up to me...I don't know. She was just perfect. Everything that I wanted."

"If you pay enough, anybody will be anything." Dean cocked his head slightly, contemplating this, and Alex kicked him under the table, hissing at him to stop thinking about naked women.

"It wasn't about the money," Benson told them. "It wasn't even about the sex. I don't know what it was. It's...it's hard to explain. My wife never had a clue."

"Then why'd you kill her?" Alex asked quietly.

"I don't know. For Jasmine." He bit his lip. "She said we would be together forever. If...if only Vicki was…" He choked for a moment. "Afterwards, me and Jasmine were supposed to meet and she never showed. I don't know where she lives. I don't even know her last name. I don't even know her real first name! I'm an idiot!"

"Why wouldn't you tell the police?" Alex demanded, furrowing her brow. "This is something you should have mentioned to them, Mr. Benson."

"What for?" he said bitterly. "The stripper didn't do it. I did. And I know what I deserve." His hands clenched into fists. "The judge doesn't give me the death sentence? I'll do it myself."

* * *

"This is such an...odd case," Alex murmured as she strode into the building beside Dean. He glanced at her curiously, shoving his car keys into his pocket, handing her the file so he could fix his tie. "I mean, women don't just ask someone to kill their wife and it happens."

"Yeah, well, people do crazy things for the people they apparently think they love." Dean adjusted his tie and then crossed his arms, ducking inside and leaving her to sweep in after them. They found Sam quickly, and Alex flashed him a smile as they entered an office. He returned it awkwardly.

"What'd we miss?" Dean asked, winking.

"Ah, this is…" Sam seemed to struggle for a moment. "This is my partner, Agent Murdoch," he lied. Naturally. Dean wiggled his fingers. "And this is his..."

Alex flashed the woman beside him a quick smile, ignoring the way she stared at her scar as she extended a hand. "Please, I'm an official from England," she said in her clipped accent. "I was curious and got special permission to take on an investigation with these two agents. You can call me Alex."

No one _ever_ looked to see if that was something that actually happened.

The woman shook her hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Doctor Cara Roberts." She turned back to Sam. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Just one more thing," he said hastily as Dean pouted over not receiving such a warm greeting as Alex had. "This chemical, this…"

"Oxytocin," she provided.

"That. What would cause such high levels of oxytocin?"

"Nothing I've ever seen," Cara said seriously with a sigh, rubbing her temples with a grimace.

They left after that, Dean teasing Sam for what had happened with the doctor who'd clearly liked him quite a bit. Alex's lips twitched as Dean complained about him taking up so much attention from such a good looking lady.

Finally, Sam rolled his eyes and said, "So Whylie and Snyder totally fessed up, huh?"

Alex grinned. "One emptied his IRA. The other emptied his kids' college fund."

"Live nude girls?" Sam muttered, making a face.

Dean was eager of course. "A club called 'The Honey Wagon'."

"Don't look so excited, Dean," Sam muttered, turning to Alex to get more important information. "Did these guys have affairs, too? With a stripper also known as Jasmine?"

Alex shook her head. "Yes and no. Each one got together with a different stripper. They all described their stripper in the same way...the exact same way. Perfect, and everything they bloody wanted."

"Until dream Barbie convinced them to murder their wives," Dean said under his breath.

"There is that," Alex agreed. "It's almost as if they were under some kind of love spell, which caused them to become totally psychotic."

"Absolutely seems that way," Dean said happily.

"You seem pretty cheery," Sam muttered suspiciously, eyeing him.

"Strippers, Sammy," Dean laughed, unlocking his car. The Impala seemed to be the last thing on his mind as Alex gave him a look of disgust. "Strippers! We're on an actual case involving strippers. About damn time!"

"Men," Alex said with disgust and slammed her car door shut.

* * *

It took a particularly nasty comment from Dean to convince Alex to stay at the motel they were staying in rather than joining Sam and Dean in visiting the stripper bar that the men reported having visited, and Sam still felt a little guilty about what Dean had said despite not saying it himself. They flashed their badges as they ducked into The Honey Wagon.

"You know," Sam said as they demanded to see the manager. "You didn't have to say that. It was rude and cruel."

"What, that she'd fit right in with the strippers?" Dean didn't seem to be bothered. But Sam knew him, and he could see the way his jaw worked unhappily. "She wouldn't stay like a good mutt."

"You could have just asked nicely."

"It wouldn't have worked."

"She could have come as a dog sniffing for drugs," he pointed out.

"I said no, Sammy."

"Since when do you decide whether or not she can come?" he demanded. "It's been forever since you didn't want her to come along. Usually she's pretty helpful, you know. She might have scented out something we didn't notice."

"While people are flirting with her, trying to get in her pants? I don't think so." Dean searched the people, noting the man coming towards them. He didn't look very pleasant and Dean made a face. He hated when they didn't cooperate.

"Dean. Did you not hear what I said? She would have been-"

"What the hell do you want?"

Sam was cut off by a rather pissed off manager, who glared suspiciously at them. Dean scowled back, but Sam hastily stepped in before he could say something that upset the man too much. "We're looking for three girls. Jasmine, Aurora, and Ariel."

"You seriously think those names mean anything to me?' the manager huffed.

"One's a redhead, about five foot nine inches, the other's Asian, about-"

"Look. Do you know how many girls I deal with?" the manager snapped, cutting him off. Sam narrowed his eyes. "Fake names, fake hair, fake-"

"You have got to have some sort of paperwork," Dean cut in. He clenched his jaw, narrowing his green eyes. "Cheque stubs even. Some way to keep track of the strippers."

"Please." The manager smirked. "Exotic dancers. Independent contractors working for cash. I stay out of their hair, they stay out of what little I have left."

"Three of your customers murdered their wives," Dean said sharply. "You don't thinks that's weird?"

"Yeah. I think it's super weird. But you know what it ain't?" He turned away. "My problem!"

And then he walked away.

Dean didn't know how to react for a moment. "He just...did he just walk away from two agents? Two _FBI_ agents."

"We're not really FBI," Sam sighed and then glanced at his phone. He frowned, recognizing Alex's number. He crooked his finger for Dean to follow him and they made their way back towards the door of the strip club. They ducked outside and only then did Sam hastily answer, greeting, "Alex."

"Winchester number two," she said icily as he put her on speaker. "I hope the bastard who shot me several times has joined us."

"Dude. That was over a year ago," Dean huffed, but she merely growled and said with a huff, "I called Bobby, and he and I have a theory you two might be interested in hearing. You know. Because I'm not a _bloody stripper_."

"What's the theory, Alex?" Sam asked patiently, glaring at Dean.

Dean made a small gesture of disbelief.

"Siren."

There was a moment of silence, and then Dean questioned, "Like...Greek myth siren? The Odyssey?" Sam gaped at him. He could practically see Alex's shocked look. "I read!"

"Look," Alex sighed heavily. "The siren's not actually a myth. It's more of a beautiful creature that preys on men, enticing them with their siren song. Well, it's more of a metaphor. Like their allure."

"So they shake their thing and the guys zombie out," Dean said thoughtfully, nodding to himself.

Sam nodded. "Basically, yeah. Sirens lived on islands, sailors would chase them and completely ignore the rocky shores. They'd dash themselves to pieces."

Look," Alex cut in with a crabby tone. "Sirens read minds. They see what you want most and then they cloak themselves like an illusion."

"It could all be the same chic," Dean said slowly. "Great. So it's turning itself into different dream girls?"

"Probably, they're pretty solitary. Like you're going to be with the way you compliment a girl," Alex snapped at him and then hung up. She sent a text a moment later explaining that Bobby was helping her figure out how to kill it and that it needed to be found in the meantime.

Dean gaped at Sam's phone, looking furious, and Sam shrugged as he put it away. "What did you expect, Dean? You basically called her a stripper. I mean, it's not the worst word to call someone, but it's _Alex_. I doubt she appreciated it at all."

* * *

"Could you stop muttering?" Dean groaned as Alex bustled around the motel room, cleaning up and putting some things together. She'd decided to spend some time picking up their mess that morning, and all she'd done while picking up was complain and glare at him with a pout on her lips that just wouldn't leave the back of his eyes for some goddamn reason.

"I don't mutter," she growled. "I'm contemplating murder."

"I'm sure you are." Frowning, Dean reached over and plucked up a phone - Sam's. Sam had left it behind unintentionally, and Alex cocked her head when he looked through it almost thoughtlessly.

"What are you doing?" she demanded as she heard a ringer go off. He held up a finger, lifting the phone to his ear, and she fell silent.

"Sam? Sam? You there?"

Dean's contemplative look turned into one that was clearly upset and he hung up and put it back where it had been. "Ruby," he told her quietly as if she hadn't been able to overhear. She frowned, back on his side for the time being.

"Why the hell would he talk to Ruby without letting us know?" She didn't have any room to talk, of course, and she recognized that. After a long moment, she sighed, "I think I have an angel stalking me by the way. If you're going to call me a stripper, you may as well bloody know some other little things."

His head snapped around. " _What_?"

"Barachiel," she said with a confirming nod. "His name's Barachiel, and he's not such an ass. At least, I thought he wasn't. He showed up when you forgot to leave a hex bag with me last week." Her eyes flashed. "He showed up, asking if I was ready to hear what God had commanded me to do."

Dean's eyes widened. "What?" he repeated, shocked. He grew angry. "You didn't think to _tell_ us?"

"Well, I mean, he's the reason that Sam exorcised Samhain without a word from me," Alex pointed out thoughtfully. "He spoke to me a couple of other times, but that's not the point. He basically demanded I spy on you and report what you did while the hex bags were in your hand."

Dean opened his mouth and then scowled, giving her a viciously suspicious look. "What the hell, Alex? Why wouldn't you-"

She held up a hand to silence him. "You twats have trust issues and I had it handled." She cast a narrow-eyed look at him. "First off, I told Barachiel that you didn't deserve it. Second, I said that I _wouldn't spy on you_ , so don't get your bloody mind ahead of you. Third, I don't think Barachiel is entirely truthful on being _just_ a chief of guardian angels if he's talking with God."

"He really spoke with-"

"Mhm, that's what he said." Alex dropped to sit on the bed a couple of inches from him, her wide blue eyes thoughtful as she rubbed her arm. "He's fond of Castiel for some reason. I don't know why. Something about him seeing differently. Anyways, now you know and I don't feel like I'm going to get us killed. So what did you do last night that I couldn't go to, hm? Because trust goes both ways, Winchester, and I don't know if you actually went to The Honey Wagon last night."

Dean didn't know how to react for a moment. "Excuse me?"

Alex studied her nails and he knew she was deliberately not looking at him because damn it, since when had she card about them? "You heard me. You and Sam left me all alone last night while you went flying off like some kind of weird bats into the night. So. What were you doing?"

"We went to The Honey Wagon and spoke with the manager?" Dean said, confused, "I mean, there was another murder last night, so I guess we kind of missed out on that."

Alex's gaze darted up for the briefest of moments. "Liar."

"But we went to the stripper bar," Dean protested. "I'm serious."

"I'm sure you did."

It was only the moment in which he saw her smirk and the laughter in her eyes alongside the realization that he was insisting that they'd gone to a place most people said they hadn't gone to that Dean realized she was messing with him.

"Damn it, Alex," he groaned. "I can't believe you just made me try to convince you I went to a stripper bar."

Alex cackled like a mad little witch and went right back to cleaning, looking to be in a _much_ better mood by the time Sam ducked in. He took a quick look at his pouting brother and the smirk Alex wore, them shook his head, rolled his eyes, and informed them, "Definitely another siren victim. Lenny Bristol brought a stripper home last night named Belle. Couple of hours later, he offed his mother. Belle went MIA, naturally."

Alex stiffened, unhappy. "He killed his mum?"

"The woman he was closest to," Dean said thoughtfully as Sam's phone suddenly rang. Sam froze. "Yeah," he muttered, offering his brother a grin that was a little too cheerful. "You, uh, forgot your phone." He tossed it at his brother without answering it, and Alex gave him a look of sympathy that made Sam suspicious.

 _Wasn't she ready to cut his fingers off one by one this morning…?_

"Hey Bobby," Sam greeted, rocking back on his heels.

"Sam," Bobby greeted curtly in reply. "You find her yet?"

"Ah, no, and it doesn't seem like she's slowing down. You got anything?" Sam questioned as he shrugged his jacket off, putting the phone on speaker.

"Well," Bobby began. "Some lore from a dusty Greek poem. Shockingly, it's a little vague. It says you need a 'bronze dagger, covered in the blood of a sailor under the song'."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" Alex demanded, frowning in confusion. Bobby snorted, amused, with her. "Do you have any suggestions on what it might be, Bobby?"

"The siren's spell ain't got nothing to do with any song," Bobby said thoughtfully. "There's likely some kind of toxin or venom. Something she gets in their blood."

"Which means I could smell it," Alex pointed out eagerly. "Probably."

"They're not really letting us near the bodies though," Sam sighed thoughtfully. "Do you think she infects the men during sex?"

"Maybe."

"Supernatural STD," Dean said as if he found such an idea utterly hilarious.

Alex elbowed him for it and it earned them an odd look from Sam. "Anyways," Bobby mused. "However it happens, once it's done, the siren's gotta watch her back. She gets a dose of her own medicine, it kills her. Like a snake getting iced by its own venom."

"So we just gotta find a way to juice one of the OJs in jail?" Dean suggested, making Alex roll her eyes.

As if agreeing with the skinwalker, Bobby pointed out, "Not that easy. They aren't under the spell anymore, Dean. Haven't got a clue where you're going to get the blood you need."

They all sat there in silence for a few moments before Dean's eyes widened. "I might have an idea," he said suddenly, standing swiftly.

"Be careful," Bobby sighed. "These things are tricky bitches. Wrap you up in knots before you know what hit ya. Now, let me talk to Alex. Alone." She grinned, snatching Sam's phone and pressing it to her ear after a moment. Without prompting, he said, "Make sure you're careful." Alex's lips twitched when he suddenly added, "Watch yourself, Alex. These idjits will get you in trouble before you can so much as blink."

"I know," she laughed, "I'll do my best to keep them out of it, Bobby." She smiled smugly at the stunned looking Sam and Dean. "Don't worry. I've got them handled."

"Good, good. Just wanted to let ya know I heard from Avery."

Alex perked up, immediately turning away from the Winchesters. "How is she?"

"Fine. No demon sightings for the time being. I am a little concerned about the matter of the 'strange blue-eyed man in a trench coat' showing up at her door though."

The phone nearly slid out of Alex's hands. "What?!"

"Yeah. I told her what's been goin' on with you guys that you've told me. She's gonna stay with me for a while, so don't worry too much. She got here yesterday and wanted to cook somethin' tonight. I sent her out to the store. She's got that hex bag you showed me. I made her one."

"What the hell would Castiel want with her?" Alex wondered under her breath, more to herself than the others. "She smelled different, but was perfectly normal…"

"Who knows? I'll call you on your phone if something happens."

"Thanks, Bobby." Alex let loose a huge breath, eyes warm with gratitude for the man. "You're a lifesaver, you bloody lovely genius."

His voice was gruff as he told her, "Yeah, yeah. Now go get some work done." Alex laughed and without another word hung up, pushing the phone into Sam's waiting hand. They gave her expectant looks.

"Avery's staying with Bobby," Alex explained. Both looked startled, Sam more so than Dean. To Sam, who she knew hadn't seen the woman since the orphanage ordeal, she explained, "I stayed with Avery back in August. She somehow got a visit from the Cas. So she called Bobby and is staying with him."

"She's probably why he wouldn't come out himself," Sam muttered in thought.

She nodded. "Anyways. Let's hit the road. Shall we?"

* * *

"Doctor Roberts?"

Sam knocked lightly on the door to the office and Alex, standing beside Dean, arched a brow as Cara flashed a surprised look over her shoulder and then smiled wryly. "Agent Stiles," she mused. "Can't stay away?"

He smiled and then became serious. "Actually, we're here on business, about the blood samples you mentioned. The ones with the high oxytocin. Do you still have them?"

"I do," she confirmed, peeking over their shoulders with a narrow-eyed look as a man approached, giving them hesitant smiles. "Hello, can I help you?" she asked with a sigh. She was clearly bothered she wouldn't get work done.

"Yes, I'm looking for Doctor Cara Roberts?"

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "You're looking at her."

Dean huffed impatiently, confidently flashing him his fake badge. "Excuse me, we're a little busy here, buddy."

Alex's jaw dropped. She almost took a step back when the man smiled tightly and flashed a real badge at them, amused. "Yeah. So am I, pal."

 _Bloody hell, he's a real FBI agent!_ she thought, a little panicked. Only practice kept it off of her face, which was blank as she looked at him with cool and calculating eyes as she inhaled sharply. She furrowed her brow. Something was weird about this area, she noticed, but before she could turn to Sam, he'd turned to Cara. "Can you give us a sec, please?"

"Sure," she agreed, frowning and backing away. She turned and left after a moment and Sam turned back to the FBI agent as Dean questioned his name sharply.

"Nick Munroe," he retorted. "Yours?"

"Special Agent Sam Stiles," Sam lied smoothly. "This is my partner, Dean Murdoch. She's Alex Tyler. Alex is a witness in one of the murders, aren't you, Alex?"

Alex flashed her white teeth at Nick Munroe. "Yes. I am. They're kind of my Witness Protection until this is solved and dealt with," she lied, gesturing to Sam and Dean.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Tyler," he said kindly. "I'm from Omaha. Violent Crimes Unit. My SAC sent me down here to see about the murders. You?"

"D.C." Dean studied him suspiciously. "Our Assistant Director assigned us."

"Oh? Which one?"

"Mike Kaiser," Sam supplied, beginning to look a little annoyed. Sensing the agitation, Alex shifted, already bothered by the odd smell in the building.

"What are your badge numbers?" When Dean gave Nick a glare, demanding why they were being so interrogated, he shrugged and replied, "I'm just following protocol."

Grouchy, Sam shoved a card at him. "Look, whatever. Call our AD and he'll sort things out."

 _Bobby_ , Alex remembered. Once upon a time, Alex had asked the older hunter about the collection of phones in his kitchen, and Bobby had explained which each of them were. He'd told her they were important for covers that Sam and Dean had come up with. He'd gotten drunk afterwards, of course, as it had been a few days after Dean had gone to Hell, but she would never forget just how many phones he'd had.

She watched with intent blue eyes as Nick stepped away and called him. Her sharp ears caught Bobby's voice with ease before she let her gaze dart up to Sam, who stood surprisingly close to her. He dropped a hand onto her shoulder and leaned in, breathing into her ear, "What do you think? Real FBI?"

She shrugged. "Maybe," she hissed back. "But there's something around making my nose go funny. It's stuffed up." She sniffed, just to prove her point. "I can't smell anything anymore."

"Great," he sighed, though he didn't seem to blame her. He straightened as Nick turned back to them and apologized. Sam gave him a cool look. "Don't let it happen again."

"Where are you at with this?" Nick asked, flashing Alex a friendly smile that she didn't return.

"Where are _you_ at with this?" Dean retorted, clearly not liking him too much.

"I was just about to run the perps' bloodwork," Nick said honestly. Alex twitched, not liking him much. He was going to get in their way.

"I already checked," Sam said stiffly. "Dead end."

"But get this," Nick continued urgently, frowning. "I feel like I found something that connects them all. All the murders. They were all banging strippers from the same club."

Alex could tell by the way Dean's jaw ticked that he was annoyed. "You don't say. Here's the thing, Nick. See. We're kind of lone wolves, and we're really more concerned about Miss Tyler here, who was a witness, which puts her in danger…"

Alex could kick a siren's ass any day, she decided irritably as Sam suddenly perked up and waved for his brother. "Hold on," he told Sam. "Let me talk to my partner and Alex." When Dean had come over, he lowered his voice and told him, "Dean, why don't you and Alex take him to the bar? Keep him off of our tails while I get the bloodwork."

"Why me?" Alex demanded. "I didn't do anything to deserve it."

"You wanted to go yesterday," Dean said under his breath. Alex had to fight the urge to kick him. "What the hell am I supposed to do with him, Sam?"

"Take him to the club, keep an eye out for the siren. Come on, Dean. Just...focus on the naked girls. You'll forget he's even there."

Alex pouted, bothered by that statement, and Dean found himself distracted for the third time by such a thing. Sam didn't seem to notice, he was relieved to discover, as he muttered, "Yeah. For the girls."

"All right," Dean muttered as he led Alex and Nick out of the hospital, clenching his jaw. Alex kept close to him. "We're taking my ride. No complaining about the tunes."

"No complaints from me," Alex hummed, smirking, and he rolled his eyes. They'd come up with a hastily made story under their breath. Not only was she being "protected", but she was going to conveniently go missing and show up as a dog at a later point to try and pinpoint important scents that might show up.

When they reached the Impala, Alex slid right into the passenger seat despite a warning look from Dean, who tried to gesture to the back seat, but Nick stopped. "Now way," he gasped. "You drive an Impala?"

"Yeah," Dean said, giving him a strange look.

"It's a '67, right? A three-twenty-seven four barrel."

Dean's strange look disappeared, replaced by a pleased one when Nick added that it was a thing of beauty. "Thanks. At least some people can appreciate Baby." He patted the car affectionately, making Alex snicker.

"So," Nick asked, climbing into the back seat without questioning it. "How the hell did you talk the Bureau into letting you drive your own wheels?"

* * *

"This is bloody hell on my ears," Alex whined to Dean as they settled into a table. He had a series of shots in front of him, and she was feeling too sick - the sounds too loud - to consider so much as touching alcohol at the moment. She had a glass of water that Nick had thoughtlessly sipped from by accident only moments before, and she kept sipping at it in an attempt to help her feel better.

"And this is why you didn't come last night," he muttered back. Eager green eyes turned on Nick. "Nobody's Fault But Mine."

"Zeppelin recorded it in the year of 1975. It was a cover of a Blind Willie Johnson tune." Nick sat back, looking proud of himself, and Alex rolled her eyes as he replied, "You Shook Me."

"'69, debut album. Written by Willie Dixon." Dean said confidently.

"And…?" When Dean didn't continue, Nick grinned. "Written by Willie Dixon and J.B. Lenoir."

"I don't know who any of these people you're talking about are," Alex told them as Dean excitedly claimed Nick wasn't a total dick, much to her amusement.

"Aren't we both feds?" Nick said pleasantly, then cast a quick look at Alex. "Forgive me, Miss Tyler, I was distracted. I forgot about you."

"Alex, please," she said tightly. "Believe me. I'd prefer to go by Alex. Excuse me for a few moments, boys," she added. She climbed to her feet, feeling sick. Her nose was stuffed like no tomorrow, and her stomach churned. She grimaced. "I need to run to the bathroom."

"Sure," Dean agreed, scooting out of the booth. She climbed out and just before she could run off, he placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned in, muttering so no one else would hear, "Careful. Send a text if you see anything weird. That bitch could be anywhere."

"I'm pretty sure I'm safe," Alex said with a sigh. "She's after men, Dean." Nevertheless, she flashed him a smile and reassured she would before slipping away, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. She strode towards where she knew the bathrooms to be, ignoring the way the air reeked of sex and other bodily fluids. Even through her stuffed nose, the scents made her eyes water.

She barely reached a toilet in time.

She retched and vomited up what she'd eaten earlier that day. Sweat dripped down her face and she grimaced, imagining how horrifying she looked with her scar added on top of it. She felt sick, incredibly sick, with her stomach turning itself into painful knots and black spots filled her vision.

"Bloody hell," she slurred, trying to not pass out. It had gotten so bad within minutes-

She vomited a second time and then slithered to the ground, legs weak. She forced herself to remain at least sitting. It took her a few minutes of wheezing before she grabbed her phone and struggled to push it to her ear after dialing a familiar number.

No one picked up.

"Twat," she groaned. She tried Sam's number, but it was ended, and she knew he'd seen it, but not answered. "And you're worse than a... _shite_!" She dropped her phone, clutching her stomach, which felt as if knives had been shoved into it.

"Mm, drugged, are we?"

Alex didn't bother to react properly, her heart racing as she struggled to remain awake. "Barachiel," she managed to choke out finally. Her fingers snagged her phone, sending some kind of jumbled mess of letters to Dean via text where the smirking angel couldn't see. She lifted her blue eyes to him weakly. "Is this your...your doing?"

"No. That's the siren's venom, though I _am_ curious about how you didn't notice. It doesn't seem to work on non-humans." Barachiel tilted his head. "Interesting."

"Stop standing there and do something then!" she wailed. She choked, sputtering, and swore when she tasted the metallic taste of blood on the tip of her tongue. "I feel like I'm dying-"

"Because you are." Barachiel didn't look concerned. "It's how I found you, even with that hex bag. Guardian angel and what not."

Alex's phone buzzed in her hand and she lowered her gaze to it. Dean had texted her back, saying something about whatever, but she couldn't read it past the part where he said 'one moment'.

She heaved again, lurching to the toilet, and grunted when she vomited up what she was certain was blood. "Oh, God," she gasped, her body trembling in pain. "What the bloody hell...siren venom? Not poison?"

"Siren venom," Barachiel confirmed. "As I said, it doesn't work with other sorts of - oh, I see that Mr. Winchester has arrived. Shall I leave you and your new companion in peace, Alex?"

He barely spared the door a look as the lock clicked a moment before someone slammed into it. "Open it!" she wheezed, glaring at the angel. "Open it!"

"Now, now," Barachiel hummed, crouching before her. He grabbed her chin, digging his nails in and Alex fought the urge to bite the bastard. "Here's the deal. I'll cure you of this venom and open the door as long as you agree to summon me at a later time and do as God commands. What use are you if you don't follow His orders, hm?"

She spat blood at his face, remembering when she'd thought Barachiel _might_ be a decent angel where Uriel and Castiel weren't.

He didn't seem bothered.

"Alex?" Dean called, not sounding too concerned. He sounded more impatient. "What the hell are you doing? We've got work to do, woman!"

He must have left Nick behind. She hoped.

Barachiel's eyes flashed. "Are you going to agree or not? I can leave you here."

Alex glared and then snaked her head aside and latched her jaws onto his fingers, biting as hard as she could. She tasted blood before he'd disappeared and the door swung open. Gasping for air, the skinwalker spat the blood in her mouth, feeling it drip down her chin. "Lock the bloody door," she wheezed as Dean gaped at her.

"Right." He closed it and locked it before staring at her. "What's-"

"First off," she gasped, and then lurched sideways a little. She vomited - more blood - and then sat back, sweat dripping down her forehead. Her chest heaved for air. "Bobby. Call Bobby. Siren venom on other supernatural creatures."

"Right." He whipped his phone out and dialed Bobby. He crouched beside her, unsure of what to do as she hung her head, blood dripping onto her clothes. When he picked up, he demanded, "Bobby. Siren venom when used on other supernatural creatures. Alex is throwing up blood."

Bobby sputtered - he'd clearly not been expecting that - before he said, "I don't know, Dean! Sirens aren't that common, and the monsters in the night don't go after each other on a regular basis!"

Alex rested her forehead on her arms and moaned, " _Hurts_."

"Bobby," Dean insisted loudly.

"I'm lookin', calm down." There was silence followed by Bobby's muffled voice ordering someone to look for it with him, and then more silence. Finally, Bobby said tiredly, "There's nothing on the matter, Dean."

Alex clenched her jaw and Dean swore under his breath before she shoved something at him. He opened his palm to find a hex bag in it. "Bloody angel it is. Going to have to apologize for...biting him."

"You _bit an angel_?!"

Alex glared at him and he backed up a bit. Finally, she groaned, "Alright, Barachiel. You've got me cornered. I'll do whatever the hell that non-existent bastard wants me to do."

The fluttering of wings filled her ears and Dean glared suspiciously at the angel that had reappeared, looking incredibly pissed off. "I should let you bleed to death," he muttered, curling a lip. He studied his fingers and then leaned over her, pressing his palms gently over her temples. "I've never had this much trouble."

"Welcome to my life with the bloody Winchesters."

"Hey," Dean protested, and then glared. Barachiel had turned to him as Alex relaxed, pain gone. He gave a pleasant smile, though his green eyes churned with a deadly look.

"Dean Winchester," the angel purred, "You're as blind as everyone else. Stalked by Castiel...tell him I say hello, will you?" He turned his attention back on Alex, who had closed her eyes. "I'll see you soon, Miss Montgomery."

And then he was gone again, and Bobby was snapping in Dean's ear, "Who was that?"

"Barachiel, an angel." Dean pressed his lips together. "Call ya back, Bobby." He hung up and then knelt back by Alex, unsure of how to help her now that she wasn't vomiting blood. She looked like a nightmare with it staining her shirt. "You good?"

"Yes," she said with a hoarse voice. "Dean, I want to go-"

She would have said home. She wasn't sure where that was though.

He seemed to get what she'd meant, however. With more gentleness than he'd ever shown the skinwalker before, he shrugged off the jacket for his suit and draped it on her shoulders. She understood, drawing it over her chest to hide her red-stained clothes. "Come on, let's get you out of here before I'm arrested. I'll tell Nick to head out when he feels like it."

"Thanks," she slurred. She shook as she climbed to her feet, exhausted. "Bloody arse. Now I've got to do what he says."

"Nah, here's your hex bag. You're hangin' with us, Alex. We don't do what the angels want." He shoved the hex bag into the pocket of his jacket and then nudged her towards the sink. She cleaned up her face as best as she could. They didn't concern themselves with the blood spots left in the bathroom.

They left through a backdoor. Dean swung into the driver's seat upon getting to the Impala. Alex climbed into the passenger seat, exhausted. Finally, Dean demanded, "What the hell, Alex?"

"I don't know how, but apparently, the siren was around." She rested her head against the glass, aware that she _was_ covered in her own blood. "Siren venom doesn't mix with skinwalkers. Add that to the database upstairs, Winchester. New way to kill me."

"I'll drop you off," he decided. "At the motel. Maybe I can finally catch Sam...been callin' him for ages. Wouldn't pick up. Turns out that some hyacinth flowers were found at all of the crime scenes."

Understanding ran through Alex's sleep-ruined mind. "That doctor had some in her office, didn't she?"

"Exactly." Dean agreed. He started the car. "So I'm going to do some investigating."

"Mm," she mumble. After a moment, she breathed, "Thanks. For helping me."

He rolled his eyes. "You did clean up duty when Sam couldn't. There isn't anything that could make up for that. Except saving your ass."

Alex snorted and smiled out the window.

* * *

"Alex?" Sam said, surprised when he stepped into the motel room to find the skinwalker curled up in the middle of a bed. She blinked tiredly at him, waking up. "Where's Dean?"

She uncurled herself and sat up, grimacing at her blood-stained shirt. He gaped at it. "Where were you? Dean and I couldn't get a hold of you."

"With Cara." Sam frowned. "Are you okay?"

"I am now. Call Dean. He's having a fit." She waved him off and then flopped back down with a yawn.

Sam, bewildered, called his brother not a moment later and grimaced when Dean's voice shouted in his ear, "Where the hell have you been, Sam?!"

"With Cara," he repeated with a heavy sigh.

"Oh, it's Cara now, is it? And you're not picking up your phone?"

"We were trying to find the blood samples - someone stole them," Sam said bluntly. "What's up with Alex? Did she get stabbed or something? She's got blood all over her."

"Long story. Siren venom. Probably from her drink. Nick found flower petals at the crime scenes, Sammy. Hyacinths." Sam waited patiently for a moment and then Dean continued. "Hello, hyacinths? Mediterranean. Sam island where the whole friggin' siren myth started in the first place. Cara had them in her office!"

"So?" Sam huffed. "You think she's the siren?"

"I did a little checking up on her," Dean continued. "She's only been in town for two months. And she has an ex-husband. A dead ex-husband. Carl Roberts. Dropped like a stone, no warning, supposedly from a heart attack."

Sam sighed, seeing where his brother was going with this. "Dean, I just don't think it's her. Maybe he really did drop from a heart attack."

"What makes you so sure?" Dean retorted, agitated.

"I dunno, a hunch?" Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"A _hunch_? I'm giving you cold hard facts here and you're giving me a _hunch_?" There was a moment in which Sam said nothing, watching Alex doze on the bed without a word. And then Dean gasped, "Did you sleep with her?!"

"No," he retorted a little too hastily.

"Holy - you did!" Dean cried. "You slept with her! You could be under her spell right now!"

"Dude," Sam groaned as Alex finally just sat up and gave him a nasty look before stalking into the bathroom. "I'm not under her spell."

"Unbelievable, man," Dean snapped, furious. "I just don't get it. First it's Madison and then Ruby and now Cara. It's...what is with you and banging monsters?" Sam's gaze flashed with anger at that. "I don't trust you right now. It could be the siren talking."

"Look," Sam said with a patient voice. "Tell me where you are. Alex and I will come meet you and we'll figure things out."

"No. I gotta handle this, Sam. By myself."

And then he hung up and Sam swore before hurling his phone as hard as he could across the room, frustrated. He dropped to sit on the floor, glaring at the floor. And then he looked up when Alex sauntered out of the bathroom a short while later, cleaned up and dressed in normal clothes, her eyes shadowed. "Bad talk?"

"I'm under the siren's influence now," Sam said sarcastically. "Thought you'd like to know."

"No, you're not." Alex's eyes flashed and she rubbed her nose. "My nose is cleared up. Thank the bloody heavens above for showers and nose-clearing steam. You're fine. The siren...it's not Cara."

* * *

It was an hour or two after searching for Dean before they gave up and went back, exhausted. Alex and Sam were both incredibly concerned about the older Winchester, particularly after Alex had made a call to Bobby, who'd revealed Nick wasn't anywhere close to who they'd thought he was.

 _...I suppose we could have asked him in the first place._

She chose not to question her own stupidity and followed Sam into the motel room they'd left.

Sam faltered in the doorway and she bumped into him. "Sam?"

"Nick," Sam said, uncertain. She peered underneath Sam's arm at the man sitting patiently on the bed, and immediately growled low in her throat. With a cleared nose, she could smell just how off Nick really was. "What are you-"

A blur of movement had Sam freezing, standing there with a knife at his throat. Dean's eyes flashed. Sam swallowed thickly, nervous now. Alex couldn't blame him. Sam was a Winchester, too, but fighting either of them was terrifying.

"Dean?" Sam breathed.

Alex snarled. "You're one ugly stripper, you bloody slag."

"Maybe," he snickered, resting his chin on an open palm. "But I got exactly what I wanted. I got Dean."

"Dean," Sam said quietly. "Come on, man. This isn't you. You can fight this. Let me go."

Nick laughed and gestured to his neck. "Why don't you cut him, Dean? Just a little on his neck, right there?"

Sam sucked in a sharp breath and Alex bared sharpened teeth at the smell of blood that filled the air. She growled, not daring to move. As much as Sam had pissed her off in the past, she didn't want him dead.

"You poisoned him," Sam accused, frustrated.

"No," Nick corrected with a grin. "I gave him what he needed. And it wasn't some bitch in a G-string." His gaze flashed triumphantly towards Alex. "I gave him you. Well, I gave him a little brother that looked up to him. One he could trust. And now he loves _me_. He'd do anything for me. And I have to tell you, that kind of devotion? I mean, watching someone kill for you? It's the best feeling in the world."

"Slutting around town because of that?" Alex was disgusted.

Nick shrugged carelessly. "I get bored. Like we all do. And I want to fall in love again...and again...and again."

"I'll tell you what," Sam muttered. "I have fought some nasty sons of bitches, but you are one needy and pathetic loser." Alex rumbled in agreement, cackling at his sarcasm.

Until Nick grinned and spat right at Sam's face. Sam sputtered, and Alex wanted to rip her hair out in panic. Nick didn't seem to care. "I know you two have a lot you want to get off your chests, so why don't you discuss it while I have a little chat with the skinwalker? Whoever survives can be with me forever."

Alex bared her teeth as she threw herself at the door only for Nick to slam it shut, trapping her within a room with two fighting Winchesters and a siren. There went her plan to draw the siren outside, where there was more room!

Alex distantly heard Dean accusing Sam of being a liar and talking of the countless secrets, Sam retorting that Dean was too weak and that he was stronger. Alex pressed her back against the wall, snarling like a cornered dog.

"Hear that?" Nick purred. "That's the sound of people tearing each other into shreds. This is fun, I don't know why I didn't think of turning people like this against one another."

Alex fumbled with the blade at her wrist, desperate. She hoped it would kill a siren. She'd never really gone up against one before. She slashed out the second the blade was free, and Nick jerked back, blood spattering her face from where she'd cut his chest.

He shouted in pain, staunching the blood with a look of disgust as he lunged, spitting in his fury - literally. Alex remembered the agony of the venom racing through her system and lunged, plunging her blade as hard as she could into the bastard's chest. The blade sank through flesh, clipping off of bone, right to the hilt.

There was a moment of silence as time seemed to fall still. And then she yanked her black blade from his body. Nick fell dead at her feet, blood soaking her shoed feet, and Alex took a shaky breath as Dean dropped the axe he'd been wielding, he and Sam both supporting bloodied faces.

"What the hell?" Dean said, brow furrowed.

Sam said nothing, only dropped his head into his hands.

* * *

"Dean, you know I didn't mean the things I said back there, right? That it was just the siren's spell talking?"

"Of course. Me, too."

Alex tried to hide her smile from where she sat in the back of the Impala, feet kicked up as they relaxed against the hood, cautiously talking to one another after the mess that had gone down. She studied the screen on her phone, the hex bag that protected her from prying eyes held against her chest as she looked at the number.

Finally, she called it.

"Hello?" a hopeful voice asked.

Alex took a deep breath, studying the name on the screen. And then she hung up and shook her head, pressing her phone to her lips. Matt's name echoed through her thoughts along with Barachiel's determined comment about serving God and how he'd erased the siren venom from her system, truly believing her about doing as God commanded.

And she wondered just what to do next.

* * *

 _So this chapter was fun to write. Enjoyed writing a lot more Barachiel, who we learned a little more about._

 _AxidentlGoddess, that line about the pout was my favorite part of the entire chapter. Not going to lie._

 _Thanks to reviewers (AxidentlGoddess,Guest #1, and Trench gun!) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	25. Death Takes a Holiday

**| March 6th, 2009 |**

She wasn't entirely sure on why she was in this town. Greybull, Wyoming. She'd gone home to retrieve what remained of some personal possessions, perhaps to try and feel closer to home. Bobby Singer had done his best to make her at home in his house in Sioux Falls, of course. But it wasn't the same.

Pressing her lips together and tugging her jacket tighter around her, Avery Hunt paused to look around. She'd intended to grab her things and head back immediately, a recommendation from Bobby. The man who'd showed up on her doorstep - Castiel, Bobby had called him - could show up at any time. It wasn't safe for her to be out alone. Even though Castiel seemed to be a decent person from what she remembered...she knew it was bad. That something as powerful as an angel was after her.

Suddenly, a gunshot snapped through the air and filled her ears. Avery jolted to a stop. Her long dark hair spilled over her shoulder as her head snapped around, her lips parting. Instinct told her to flee as shouts followed the gunshot and someone fled. She saw their shadow streak by.

Worried, Avery jogged over to the commotion, thinking she was the stupidest person in the world for it. But she did it anyways and paused. "What's going on?" she demanded when she saw a man doing chest compressions to someone else.

"He was shot," he rasped, panicked.

Suddenly, the man he was trying to help gasped, breathing heavily. Avery's dark eyes widened in shock. "Hey," he tried to protest, smacking at his hands. "Let me up!"

"Don't move," his friend pleaded. Avery knelt beside them, her eyes narrowing.

"I feel okay." He looked bewildered. "Like...I'm normal. Look." He yanked his shirt open, showing no blood or wounds, just unharmed skin and a holey shirt. He looked lost. "But…"

"How are you...how are you alive?" Avery breathed. He gave her a stunned look.

"I don't know."

* * *

 **| March 12th, 2009 |**

Alex was in the middle of watching Dean struggle with a jukebox, seated beside Sam as he typed away on his laptop, looking for jobs, when her phone first rang. Grinning as Dean smacked the machine, she glanced at the caller ID, and then answered.

"Hullo?" she hummed, examining her nails. "Alex speaking."

"Alex!"

" _Avery_?" Alex nearly dropped her phone, shocked beyond belief. Sam glanced at her, pausing mid-type. He raised a brow when she pressed her lips together. "Is everything okay? What's wrong? Why are you calling?"

Avery laughed on the other end, but she sounded breathless. "Um, researching now, I suppose. Bobby let me go home to get some things and something weird happened while I was here. Like...really weird. I told him, and he said to stay around, watch and learn, and to keep my hex bag on me. So I did."

"Okay?" Alex huffed, narrowing her blue eyes as Dean wandered over. "That doesn't explain anything."

"I'm getting there. Patience is a virtue, Alex. Anyways, I watched someone not die. Like, seriously not die. Shot in the heart. Stood up and walked it off."

Alex choked on her bite of salad, sputtering. "What?"

Dean dropped into a seat across from she and Sam, biting into a burger he'd purchased. "What's going on?"

She shushed him and furrowed her brow. "What do you mean? You can't just walk that kind of bloody thing off. I'd know. It hurts like hell, even if it doesn't hit a vital organ."

"Just like I said. He walked it off like he'd just fallen over. No big deal."

"Huh. Which town?" Alex snatched Sam's notebook away and scribbled the name down. "We'll come check it out. I'll call you when we get close so that you can meet us. Be careful, okay? Let me know if anything else that's weird shows up."

"Aye, aye, captain."

Avery bid her farewell and hung up and Alex slapped her phone down with a frown. Dean and Sam patiently looked at her and she pressed her lips together. "We have a job...maybe. I don't know, this sounds weird."

"How weird?" Sam asked, snatching a bite of his own salad. Dean gave them looks of disgust.

"Small town," Alex explained, snatching his laptop away and burrowing down to look it up. Sam let her with a scowl on his face. "No one's died for the last few days."

"How's that weird?" Dean demanded, rolling his eyes. "Isn't that a good thing?"

Alex scoffed. "A bloke walked away from a gunshot to the heart without so much as a scar. And according to what I'm finding...he's not the only one. This man walked out of the hospice despite having terminal cancer...a woman hit by a car going sixty got to her feet like it hadn't happened."

Dean's jaw dropped. "What the hell?"

"What the hell is right," Alex agreed.

"Locals say it's a miracle," Sam muttered, reading over her shoulder. "It's gotta be something nasty, right? I mean...people making deals or something like that."

"I don't know. It's weird," Dean sighed, and Sam took his laptop back and hastily put it away before Alex could do much. He climbed to his feet and then paused to tell them, "Get that food to go."

Alex agreed, but Dean only looked down at his plate, chewing. He didn't move even as Sam demanded to know what he was doing. Swallowing, Dean looked evenly at him. "Sure you want me to go, Sam? I mean, I don't want to be holding you back or nothing."

"Dude," Sam nearly growled, clenching his jaw. "I told you a hundred times. That was the siren talking. Not me."

"Bloody hell," Alex moaned. "I thought we were past this, Winchester!"

"Yeah, I guess." He sighed and put his burger down. After a second thought, he picked it back up and began to cram it into his mouth, waving for them to lead the way. Alex snorted and gave him a disgusted look before starting for the door, contemplating just how hard it would be to convince the eldest Winchester to let her drive.

* * *

Alex saw Avery the second she scrambled out of the Impala. Sam and Dean weren't far behind as she shot over to where the other girl was waiting, leaning against a motel with a thoughtful look on her face.

"Avery," she huffed, hands on her hips when Avery saw her. "Why aren't you with Bobby?"

"Because I have a gun?" Avery gave her an incredulous look. "That you taught me the basis of how to use? Hi, Mr. Winchester and...Mr. Winchester."

Sam offered her a friendly grin. "Please," he told her, offering a hand to shake. "Sam." She wasn't nearly as frightened of him as she took it. This time, she was confident. And there wasn't a dead body at her feet, so that probably helped a little.

"And he's a twat, so call him whatever you want," Alex said, gesturing to Dean.

"I'm not a...twat." He made a face, not used to the word. "I'm Dean," he added, copying his brother and shaking Avery's hand. "We didn't really talk last time we met."

"Nope." Avery gave them a grin. "I'll stay here and hang out unless you guys need me. Bobby said to stay in town with you for now. But he said to be careful, too, because of some angels running around?"

"Trench coat guy," Alex mused. "Cas. And Uriel and Barachiel are both arses, so them, too. Basically anyone odd."

"Look who's talking," Sam muttered and then looked to his brother. "You two going to talk with Jim Jenkins or not?"

"I remember him," Avery mused. "He was the one who I saw get shot."

"We're going, we're going," Dean sighed, rolling his eyes. "You stay with Avery and keep her company. He's nerdy, so I'm sorry if he bores you."

Avery's gaze flashed. "Hope he likes _Star Wars_ , because I was thinking a marathon would be perfect right about now." She exchanged a grin with an amused Sam, who informed her that he didn't mind the idea at all.

Alex promised that she'd make sure they grabbed food before coming back and then climbed back into the Impala. Dean slid into the driver's seat and the second the door shut, she leaned forward, watching how Avery fluttered her eyes at Sam before ducking into a room. "She's...different. She's flirting with Sam for one."

Dean glanced at her starting the car and turning his music down. "Really?"

"Oh, believe me. She is." Alex sat back. "I'm going to warn her off. No offense, but your brother is a magnet for trouble. Both of you are."

"Look who's talking, Miss I-Have-an-Angel-Stalking-Me."

Alex only stuck her tongue out at him and turned her face away. "I was a threat before, though. Skinwalkers get tracked down all the time." She studied a nail, biting her lip. "You two are a prime example. If I wasn't with you two, I bet some other hunters would have murdered me."

Dean paused in pulling out of the parking lot to raise a brow at her. "...you've been really...needy lately, you know that?"

Alex worked her jaw, the scar on her cheek seeming to ripple with the action. "I'm tired. And while you two bloody fools pretend to be constantly angry and mistrustful of each other, you still love one another and see each other every day. The second I go near Matt, his family's at risk and his life goes to hell. So laugh at me if you want, but skinwalkers get lonely, okay?" She didn't look at him, staring harshly out the window. "And since I'm with you two because you bastards decided I'm not allowed to leave and Sam somewhat concerns me when it comes to demons, you're what's available."

"Nice to know I'm the last choice."

She rolled her eyes. "Not everything's about you, Winchester."

He cracked a small grin. "I like to say otherwise."

"I am more than aware of that." Alex rolled her eyes and then settled back to wait for their arrival at the house of the man they planned to interview.

* * *

"Now, you two said you were bloggers?"

Alex flashed Jim Jenkins a huge smile, flashing her white teeth even as one side of her face remained stationary. He couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from her scar, and while it bothered her, she pretended it didn't. "Yes, sir."

He eyed her for a few moments and then let his gaze flicker to Dean when he said, "Some of the people around town are saying what happened to you was a miracle."

"It was," he confirmed. "Plain as day."

"How can you be so sure that it was?" Alex asked, pretending to make a note in a notepad she held. In reality, she was just writing random insults for Dean to look at later.

"How else can you explain it? The doctors can't." Jim tapped his chest once. "There's a bullet in my heart, and it's pumping like a piston. I should probably go get it taken out soon, actually. Look, honestly...I was nobody's saint." He glanced into the living room, where his daughter and wife were seated, reading. "Not exactly father of the year, either."

"Okay," Alex hummed, writing another insult.

"But when that guy shot me and I didn't bleed a drop?" Jim pressed his lips together. "I just _knew_ the Lord was giving me a second chance."

Dean gave a wry smile that Jim didn't notice. "That so?"

"I had this feeling...like angels were watching over me."

Alex's pen faltered and she exchanged a look with Dean, because she wasn't exactly looking to meet any angels, and neither was he. Neither had exchanged words about what had occurred in the bathroom of The Honey Wagon, where Barachiel had showed up, but no one liked to think of what would happen if they summoned him now, nearly a month later.

"I wouldn't expect you guys to understand," Jim sighed, frowning. He folded his hands in his lap.

"You wouldn't have happened to have swung by a crossroads in the past week or so?" Alex asked without looking up. He answered "no", looking bewildered. "Maybe you met someone?"

"Someone with black eyes? Red? Even...even yellow?" Dean asked, his voice changing a little as he suggested the last color. It had Alex squinting curiously at him.

Jim frowned, narrowing his eyes as he leaned closer. "Who'd you guys say you were again?"

Dean shook his head and stood, gesturing for Alex to do the same. "Never mind, thank you for your time."

They left quickly, before he could realize what they truly were - not bloggers. As they headed outside, Alex bent her head near Dean's and muttered, "So that's weird. No one should be able to survive a bullet to the heart...should we go talk to another one? See what they felt like when they should have been dead?"

He gave a curt nod. "Let's go. I'll call Sam and let him know on the way."

She said nothing, only climbed into the Impala wordlessly.

* * *

When they ducked into the motel room Avery had been using later, Alex arched an eyebrow. _Star Wars_ was still playing, but both Avery and Sam were bent over a laptop, some scribbled notes written down in front of them. Both cheerfully looked up, looking perfectly comfortable beside one another.

Dean gave them a horrified look. "What kind of nerdy hell have I stepped into?"

Sam rolled his eyes and looked to Alex. She flashed him a quick smile and then explained, "That cancer survivor was clinically dead. His wife pulled the life-support and now he's taking her out for their twentieth anniversary and there's a couple more situations like that."

"We talked to a few people," Dean added. "All the same thing. What did you two find?"

Avery flashed him a smile and Alex squinted at her. So different from the nervous woman she'd left behind. She was more confident. Alex wondered if staying with Bobby had been good for her.

"So far, we haven't found any signs of a deal. And no one's died since Cole Griffith, who died ten days ago. It was the last death we could find."

Dean leaned against the wall, arms crossed and a frown appearing on his face. "Maybe it's what people say it is then."

" _Miracles_?" Sam gave him an incredulous look. "Dean, when do miracles just happen? I mean, we thought angels were cool until they showed up and turned into dicks."

Avery snorted.

"There's no deals, and there's no faith healers in the area from what I've gathered," Avery said, scanning her notes.

"These souls just aren't getting pulled to the light," Alex sighed, going for a cup of coffee that Sam had brewed in a pot. She poured some and then nearly dropped the pot. "Hey, what about-"

"Grim reapers," Sam finished. "I just started looking at that. That's what they do, right? Schlep souls?" Avery shot Alex a confused look and she shrugged, mouthing, _Winchester language_. "If death ain't in town-"

"Then nobody's dying," Dean realized. He looked lost. "So...the local reaper's on strike? Playing the back nine? I don't know, guys."

"Then how about we talk to somebody who might?" Sam suggested, glancing at Avery. Dean rolled his eyes and Sam huffed. "The kid. Look, if he was the last person to die around here, then he might have seen something. We should talk to him."

"Love how matter of fact you are about that," Dean said snidely. "Strange lives."

Alex sighed. "So we spend all of our time trying to get rid of the dead ghosts and now you want to bring them back? Brilliant. Just brilliant." She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated, and Avery smiled a fraction at her dramatic behavior.

"What do we need for that kind of spell?" she asked, climbing to her feet. "Or ritual or whatever. I can go purchase the things."

"I'll make you a list," Sam sighed. "Dean doesn't know what it needs."

"That's a lie," Dean disagreed, pouting a little, but snatched the freshly made coffee from Alex's hands. She growled over the fact that she hadn't even gotten to drink a little before he stole it and went to make another mug.

"Twat," she called him.

His return comment earned him a nasty snarl.

* * *

"Here!"

Avery calling out softly in the darkness of the cemetery brought Alex trotting to her side in canine form, relieved. She hated searching headstones for a particular one. It made her sad, seeing some of the dates. While most were decent lifespans, there was the occasional one in which a child had died.

It stung.

Alex stopped beside her friend, who waited for the Winchesters to come over. Without hesitation, Sam dropped a bag. Dean grabbed a cloth from the bag and spread it out and then went to work helping Sam set up the small "station". Alex and Avery hung back a little, watching.

Finally, leaning on another headstone, Dean flipped through a journal until he found the page he wanted. "You sure this is going to work?"

"No," Sam admitted, earning a snort from Alex, who turned her icy eyes on him. "But if his spirit's around, this should smoke him out."

Dean closed the journal as Sam began to mix something into a bowl. Alex sneezed. Dean cracked a smile before sighing, "This job is jacked. You want me to gank a monster or torch a corpse, let's light it up, right?" He paused, looking at Avery. "Sorry, kinda brutal."

She gave him a nearly dark smile. "You left a body on my doorstep. I learned to bury them. Have no fears about talking about stuff like that."

Sam gave her an odd look and then looked back to what he was doing.

"Look," Dean sighed. "If we fix whatever this is, people will start dropping dead. Good people."

"It's not about that," Avery said gently as Sam climbed to his feet and swiped his hands on his jeans. "It's the natural order. You're born, you live, you die."

"What she said," Sam muttered.

Dean scoffed. "Don't you see the irony in that? Look at us, Sam. We're like the poster boys of the unnatural order. All we _do_ is ditch death."

Alex grumbled something that no one understood, and shrugged her shoulders when Avery curiously looked at her. Normal rules didn't apply to the Winchesters, apparently.

"We're no different than anyone else," Dean began, but Sam cut him off right there.

"Dude, I'm infected with demon blood. You've been to Hell." Sam arched a brow. Dean grimaced, acknowledging that with a nod. "Look, I know you want to think of yourself as Joe the Plumber, Dean, but you're not."

Alex suddenly bristled, fur fluffing up. She growled, leaning her shoulders against her friend, and Avery tangled her fingers in the ruff of her coat, looking over her shoulder when a man called, "Hey!" Avery swore under her breath, hunching her shoulders awkwardly.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, shining the flashlight over all of them. He sidled a short step to the side when Alex's teeth were caught by the light. He shone it over Sam's setup. "What the hell is this?"

"Okay," Dean said carefully. He scrambled for an idea of what to say and Sam glanced awkwardly at him. "This is...this is not what it looks like," he said with a nervous laugh.

"Really?" the man challenged. "Because this looks like devil worship."

Avery bit her lip to hide a smile as Dean stumbled over his words. "What? No! No, no, this is not devil worship. This...uh, this is...this is…"

Alex barked again, snarling at him. Her fur bristled and she shoved Avery back.

"I don't have a good answer," Dean admitted.

"We were just leaving," Sam began, but the man suddenly smiled and Alex made a low guttural sound from deep in her chest. "Alex," he hushed, but Avery had shrieked in surprise when the man smiled broadly at them, eyes rolling back to reveal white.

"You're not going anywhere, Sam." Sam's face paled and Dean's hand went to a gun at his back that they all knew would be useless. Alex pressed back against Avery's knees, bustling her as far back as she could.

"I thought you got deep fried," Dean said darkly. "Extra crispy."

"Nah." Alastair smirked, eyes returning to normal. "Just the pediatrician I was riding. His wife's still looking for him. It's hilarious." His gaze turned to a furious Sam, and then darted curiously to Avery, who fisted her hands nervously in Alex's fur. Her eyes were filled with terror. "Interesting...I've got no time to chat. Got a hot date with death, you know?"

One moment, Alex was standing before her friend, protecting her, the next she was staggering to her feet,ears ringing. Avery cried out not too far away, wheezing for breath and Dean lay beside a headstone, dazed and clutching his bloodied head.

Alex wasn't sure what happened. But she saw Sam raise his hand - and then the demon was gone, sliding from his body and vanishing into the air. Sam dropped his hand, bewildered, and then darted over to check on his brother and Avery. Alex was somewhat insulted he didn't check on her, but shook her fur out and tested her limbs. She tasted blood on her tongue and could only grimace in pain when her tongue swiped over a nasty cut in her lip.

When he'd made sure Dean was good, merely sitting up with a groan, Sam went to Avery, gently prodding her head for injuries. She looked sick, and Alex frowned when she saw the odd angle of her arm.

She shook herself out of her canine form and called, "I'm going to go get the car going."

Dean weakly took his keys from his pocket and tossed them to her with a groan.

Alex snatched them out of the air and ran to find her clothes and get the car ready.

* * *

When they got back to the motel - Dean wouldn't get in until Sam was in the driver's seat - Dean went to lay down with an icepack, and Sam took Avery and Alex to the hospital so that Avery's arm could get seen to.

When Avery's arm was casted a few hours later, they left and went back. When they walked in, Dean was lying on a bed, dozing. An ice pack was resting on his head, and Sam frowned a little, asking, "Dean? You okay?"

"I'm in pain," Dean said sharply. "That's how I'm doing. I think I have a concussion."

Alex sighed, recognizing the tone that he'd taken up. He was about to pick a fight with his brother. To Avery, who was ready to go to sleep after being given some pain medication, she murmured, "Go ahead and go to sleep if you want. I'm going to stay here and make sure that they don't kill each other."

"Kay," she said with exhaustion. She went over to the bed Dean didn't occupy and flopped down onto it, out in seconds.

"Aspirin, Dean?" Alex asked. He gave a curt nod. She went to grab the bottle of pills as he turned his attention back onto his brother.

"So, Sam." Sam's shoulders tightened as he went to work on typing something up on his laptop. Notes, Alex saw as she headed back over to the eldest Winchester with the medicine. "Demons, huh?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "So much for miracles."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "And what the hell happened with Alastair?"

"I told you," Sam said with a roll of his eyes. "He tried to fling me or whatever." He awkwardly flicked a wrist to show what he meant, and then looked up. "It didn't work. He bailed."

"Well, why couldn't he fling you?" Dean's jaw worked, his eyes blazing. Alex went to sit on the bed with the unconscious Avery. "He chucked you pretty good last time."

Sam rubbed his temples, sighing heavily. "I don't know, Dean."

He lifted his gaze when Dean spoke in an angry voice. "Sam, do me a favor. If you're gonna keep your little secrets, we can't really stop you." Alex cooed under her breath mockingly, pleased to be included, but hastily shut her mouth when he glared at her. "But don't treat me like an idiot, okay?"

 _Here we go,_ Alex groaned silently.

"Dean, I'm not keeping secrets-"

Dean cut his brother off. "Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever." He touched his head with a scowl that hastily changed into a look of utter pain.

"Bobby called," Alex said hastily to turn the subject around. "He did some digging, and he thinks that Sam's right about the reaper. It's not just gone...it's been kidnapped."

"By demons? Why?" Dean looked at her, confused, and she glanced over when Sam spoke up.

"'And he bloodied death under the newborn sky - sweet to taste, but bitter when once devoured,'" Sam recited. "It's from a very obscure, very arcane version of Revelations."

"If they kill a reaper under the solstice moon," Alex finished, "Which is tomorrow, by the way, there's a seal that is broken."

"Where are the angels is what we want to know," Sam told him. "We could use their help if demons have conquered a reaper." He scrubbed a hand down his face, and Alex clenched her jaw. "We could use their help for once."

Dean's gaze flicked to Alex, and she shook her head. There was no way in _hell_ they were summoning an angel. Not when Barachiel was probably running around in an attitude. "It looks like we're gonna have to take care of this one in ourselves," Dean told her calmly.

"Dean," Sam sighed. "Reapers are invisible. The only people that can see them are the dead and the dying."

"If ghosts are the only ones that can see them," Dean began, and Sam and Alex gave him equally horrified looks. "Then we become ghosts." He grinned, as if proud of himself.

"He has a concussion," Alex told Sam and Sam grimaced in agreement. "You're crazy, Winchester," she added.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I know it sounds crazy, but let me call Pamela. She could be here pretty quickly. I'll just tell her that there's some girl she'd be interested in meeting." He glanced at Avery. "And I want to know why that demonic bastard thought Avery was interesting. It can't be good."

Alex murmured her agreement, worried about her friend, and then settled back as Dean fumbled with his phone to call Pamela. Amused, Sam waved him off. "I'll do it," he told him. "Go to bed."

"Yeah. Sounds good." Dean grimaced in pain.

Alex checked her phone as Dean's snores filled the air and Sam stepped outside to call Pamela, speaking in low voices to her on the phone. She bit her lip as she studied the message there, a nervous sound in her throat.

Matt was pleading for her to at least stop by. _Demon_ , he thought. He thought there was a demon hanging around his section of Denver, and he didn't want his children in harm's way.

Alex finally sighed and closed out of the messages.

* * *

"You three hunters," Pamela said as she strode into the motel room the next day. "Are quite possibly the craziest people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing."

Sam rolled his eyes while a sleepy Avery, who'd been sleeping for quite some time and had just woken up for coffee, blinked curiously at the newcomer. She yawned and Sam muttered, "Nice to see you, Pamela. You're a sight for sore eyes."

"Aren't I? And who are _you_ , sweetheart?" She beamed at Avery, who eyed her suspiciously, cradling her coffee in one hand. Pamela lowered her sunglasses, showing off her white eyes, and Avery gaped.

"This is Avery Hunt," Alex introduced. She flashed Pamela a warm smile. She'd reluctantly begun to like her cheerful attitude since she'd met her. She still felt guilty over Castiel burning her eyes out, to be honest. "Avery, this is Pamela. She's going to help us become ghosts."

"She's not-"

"I'm not a demon, sweetcheeks." Pamela winked and then put her sunglasses back up. She turned to Sam. "Alright, which of you brainiacs came up with the astral projection?"

"Winchester number one," Alex stated, pointing at the same time that Dean raised his hand and said, "Yo."

"Of course." Pamela waved them off with a sigh. "So let's be clear. You want to rip your souls out of your bodies and take a little stroll through the spirit world?"

"Well, three of us do," Avery murmured. "I'm not doing it. I think I'm actually going to go and get that tattoo you mentioned, Sam," she added when he looked her way. She touched the spot over her heart. "This one."

"Good idea," he agreed. "Do you need money?"

"No. I'll charge my ex's credit card." Avery smirked and Pamela gave her a look of approval.

"I like you, girly," Pamela told her. She turned her attention back on the Winchesters and Alex, who was fidgeting. "Do you have any idea how heavy-duty insane this is?" she demanded, folding her arms.

"Maybe, but that's where the reaper is, so…" Dean shrugged.

Pamela shook her head. "You don't know what you're doing, Dean."

"No," he admitted. "But you do."

"Yeah, I do." She suddenly looked agitated. "And guess what? I'm sick of being hauled back into your angel-demon, Soc-Greaser crap. I lost my eyes for you three and Bobby. I'm done."

Alex bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

Pamela acknowledged her apology with a curt nod of the head, but Dean said, "Look, I'd love to be kicking back with a cold one, watching Judge Judy, but the world thinks otherwise." His jaw worked furiously, his green eyes furious.

"Nice. Blind jokes."

"You know what I mean." Dean rubbed the back of his head. "We're talking about the end of the world here, Pamela. Okay? No more tasseled leather pants, no more Ramones CDs. No more nothing." He paused and gave her a pleading look. "Please. We need your help."

Pamela was silent for a long moment. And then she sighed, shaking her head. "Get me some candles."

It took some time to gather the candles that Pamela needed. Avery left in that time to get an anti-possession symbol for a tattoo, to protect her, and Alex wished her luck on the matter. Dean had commented that she really ought to get one for herself, and Alex had muttered an agreement before focusing.

When they were ready, Sam swept the curtains closed and darkened the room. Dean lit the candles and Alex settled herself beside Sam on one of the beds. She looked nervous, her blue eyes wide.

Dean dropped onto the opposite bed. "Everyone ready?"

"No," Alex said at the same time that Sam said, "Yes."

Pamela flashed a grin and she tilted her head. "Tell me something. Even if you do break into the veil and you find the reaper, how are you going to save it?"

"With style and class," Dean retorted.

"You're gonna be three walking pieces of fog who can't touch or move anything. You'll be defenseless, hotshot." Pamela spoke with sharpness, her eyes flashing. "Ghosts have had plenty of time to practice. You better start cramming. Now. All of you. Lay down and close your eyes."

They did as they were told. Alex hesitated as she closed her eyes, not really looking forward to this and wondering why she had agreed.

"Animum vult decipi, ergo decipiatur. Vis, vis, vis," Pamela murmured, the strange language washing over their ears. "Okay, that's it. Showtime."

In a flash, Dean had sat up and studied his hands before frowning at Pamela. He looked at Alex, who hadn't moved, and then at Sam was already on his feet, looking down at his own body.

"All right," Pamela murmured. "I'm assuming you're somewhere over the rainbow. Remember that I have to bring you back." She stood, stretching and then bent to whisper something to the unconscious Sam. Sam snickered and then watched as she headed off to somehow make herself something to eat.

"What'd she say?" Dean demanded.

But Sam didn't answer as Alex - and her body - sat up with a frown. "Did it not work?"

Pamela answered without turning around. "Just curious, Alex. Ever heard of a skinwalker ghost?"

"No," she admitted and understanding ran through Sam.

"She can't do it," he told his brother.

Alex's head snapped around and locked on them, as if she could see them, yet she couldn't. Her head tilted.

"Alex?" Dean tried curiously, striding over to stand behind her. Sam stifled a laugh when he puffed out a breath to bother her - and the skinwalker bunched up her shoulder, whirling around to glare at nothing.

"Alex," Sam said slowly. "Can you hear us?"

But she didn't answer. She merely glared at nothing.

Again, without turning around, Pamela hummed, "Dogs are sensitive to spirits, aren't they? I bet you can sense them. Work at that. See if you can even track them even."

Alex struggled to think over that for a moment and then furrowed her brow. After a very long moment, she shook her head. "I feel something odd. Like a...disturbance. I don't hear or see anything though. How can I track them like that?"

Pamela shrugged. "Good luck," was all she said.

* * *

Dean and Sam wandered off after a while, going to investigate what they could. Neither knew where Alex had gone in that time, but both were too busy investigating one dead Cole Griffith, who'd been the last person to die. They'd found him with ease - or his ghost, at least.

Even now, as they watched Cole's mother sipping at a glass of vodka, Cole was serious. He was a kid, Sam supposed. His gaze never left his mother, guilt in his gaze as he rasped, "I was outside all morning." He glanced at them. "They tell you to be careful when it's cold."

"Cold air can cause an asthma attack," Sam told Dean quietly when Dean mumbled a questioning sound.

Cole nodded. "But then I was in my room," he continued. "It happened so fast. I called out for my mom, but nothing came out. Everything started spinning, and then I was just standing there. Looking down at my body." He leaned against the table, biting his lip. "He was this creepy old guy in a black suit. He wanted me to go with him, but…" His gaze slid to his mother. "I didn't want to go."

"Reaper," Sam muttered, and Dean nodded curtly. "How'd you get rid of him?"

"I didn't, the black smoke did." Cole turned his attention back on them.

Sam frowned, silently wishing Alex was around to sniff out sulfur in ways they couldn't.

"It was everywhere," Cole explained. "I hid in the closet, and when I came out, it was gone. And so was he."

"Do you know where the smoke went?" Dean asked, leaning forward.

"No," he muttered. "But I know where it is."

And then the lights flickered. Cole's face filled with anxiety and from where she was drinking her alcohol, Cole's mother looked around, scared. "They're back." He vanished without another word.

Dean shot to his feet and Sam followed suit, arms folded. Their eyes just narrowly caught something fly through the room and up the stairs. "Another reaper," Sam realized.

"Hey! Hey, wait!" Dean suddenly shouted, preparing to storm up the stairs after it. "We need to talk to-"

He cut off, blinking as a woman slowly descended the steps, brown eyes amused. "Hello, Dean. It's been a while."

"Dean?" Sam muttered, looking to his brother.

"Do I know you?" he asked sharply, glaring.

"We go way back." She smirked. She stepped past them, heading for the kitchen. They exchanged looks and followed her into it. "You don't remember me?"

"Honestly," Dean told her. "If I had a nickel for every time I heard a girl say that… You're going to have to freshen my memory." He wore no smile, suspicious, and she met his gaze for a long moment. Suddenly, she lunged forward and touched his cheek. Dean jerked away and Sam narrowed his gaze in alarm, moving to intervene - but Dean rasped, "Tessa."

"That's one of my names," Tessa hummed. "Yes."

"So you do know her?" Sam looked to Dean with confusion. Dean's jaw worked furiously - he'd been doing that a lot lately, Sam noted. Mostly when women were involved - particularly Alex, but Alex wasn't around to make sarcastic comments at the moment.

"From the hospital. After the accident." Sam furrowed his brow. Dean glanced at him, gaze hard and anxious. "The accident with...with Dad."

"So," Sam said lowly as he studied Tessa. "This is the reaper that came after you."

Tessa smiled a little and turned to look at him. "Well this was fun, but if you'll excuse me…"

She moved to step past Dean, but he blocked her path. "Wait, you can't...you can't just take that kid. Demons are in town. They've already snatched your reaper pal. The kid knows things we need to know."

She gave him a biting look. "So?"

"You should leave. For all we know, they could try and snatch you, too," Sam pointed out.

"This town is off the rails," Tessa said sharply, examining her nails. She looked up after a moment. "And someone has to set it straight."

"We understand," Dean said quietly. "But these are special circumstances."

"What?" Tessa sniffed. "Your whole angel-demon dance-off? Look, I could care less. I just want to do my job." She curled her lips back from her teeth a little, annoyed. They gave her pleading looks, their eyes stretched wide, and Tessa sighed heavily. "All right, but just so we're clear. When I start reaping again, I'm starting with that kid."

"Understood," Sam murmured. He offered a weak smile. "Give me a moment. I'm going to go talk with him."

Dean only watched his brother go, left with the reaper. Tessa flashed him a slight smile, one he tried to return - but couldn't.

It was to his surprise that he fully expected a sneering British insult in his ear.

* * *

After shaking off the irritation that Pamela hadn't told Alex the spell wouldn't work on her, the skinwalker had made up her mind on something and had left the motel. Avery was still waiting for her tattoo to be finished - the man had apparently had an appointment, which would come before sudden decisions. Alex told her to take her time.

The skinwalker weighed the hex bag in her hand, studying it, and then threw it as hard as she could. Her sharp blue eyes watched the hex bag soar through the air. She turned on her heel a moment later and studied the area around her.

She'd have Sam make her another one later.

Alex took a deep breath to steady herself, and then said icily, "Barachiel? I know you're watching, you bastard. If you can find me with an ultra powerful hex bag while I'm dying, you can find me without it."

The fluttering of wings filled her ears. She spun around, mouth open - and then stopped dead in her tracks, because the angel before her was not the one she'd expected. His blue eyes were troubled. "Alex," Castiel said quietly in way of greeting. "Barachiel is unavailable."

Alex faltered, unsure of what to do. She'd planned on demanding to know what God wanted with her, why He had decided that she was to be some sort of bloody Soldier.

Castiel was not in that plan.

"Why did you approach Avery?" Alex asked after a moment of thinking. It was an important question. She knew that Avery was different - her very scent was different - but she didn't know how. "What do you want with her?"

Castiel tilted his head a fraction. "Avery is...not what you think her to be."

"I gathered that." Alex folded her arms tightly, eyes flashing. "I could smell it. So what is she?"

Castiel pressed his lips together unhappily. "You don't need to know at this moment. Just…" He furrowed his brow in thought. He looked up suddenly, his lips parting. "There are demons here. In this town. Where no one is dying." His gaze softened. "These people could be in Heaven."

Alex blinked. "Heaven...is that an actual place?"

He inclined his head. "Of course. For those who deserve it."

She was curious now, and she couldn't help the questions that bubbled at her lips. "How do you know who deserves it? What's it like? Is...is my family happy there?" He glanced at her in surprise and her own icy eyes widened desperately. "They _are_ there, aren't they, Cas?"

Amused, he murmured, "Heaven is a place where people can be in their happiest place eternally. Your family is happy, Alex. Your mother and father are together. They wonder where their children are, but they are happy."

Alex wrapped her arms around herself, seeming happy with this. "Thank you. So. Where's Barachiel? I wanted to ask some questions-"

"Barachiel is unavailable," Castiel repeated, eyes flashing warningly. "As it is, he is not someone to trust. He cares nothing for the humans. Has he asked something of you?"

She blinked. "Information on Dean. That's it."

Castiel shook his head hastily. "Don't give him information. You were dying, were you not? Should you need such assistance like that, summon no one. Your subconscious has recognized Barachiel as the angel that has been given orders to guard the Soldier. You cannot allow him freedom over you."

Alex tightened her grip on her arms and gave the angel a long look. "So you say, but how are you any better?" She raised her chin. "Why the hell should I listen to you, Castiel? You stand with Uriel. You claim that Barachiel is bad. So what does that make you?"

He was quiet for a short while. Castiel looked up to the sky. He studied the sky, the clouds that raced across its blue mass. After standing there like that, he finally sighed, "An angel who does not believe that everything we do is right." He looked at her. "The angels wish you dead. Wish to use the Winchesters as they see fit. Use you as they see fit. You are a Soldier. Surely you should follow their orders?" He frowned. "I do not understand their reason. God has not commanded anything recently. Certainly not to demand information on Dean Winchester."

Alex chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "So I won't give information to Barachiel then."

She wasn't sure. But for some reason, she trusted Castiel - far more than she trusted Barachiel or Uriel or even Anna. He was honest, truthful and blunt. He wasn't so keen on hiding things - though he did have some secrets.

He nodded and then turned on his heel. "There are many demons here, Alex, many bad creatures. You should leave while you're alive."

"Ah, before you go," Alex said hastily and he froze, glancing over his shoulder at her. She wrung her hands, uncertain. "My brother, Matthew. He claims...he claims that there are demons in Denver. Do you know if there are?"

He gave a smile. It wasn't a large one, but neither was it small. It scared her.

"There are demons everywhere, Alex, just as there are miracles."

And then he was gone.

In his place, where he'd been standing, was the hex bag she'd thrown away.

* * *

"I'll tell you...life is funny."

Dean glanced at Tessa, waiting impatiently for Sam to come down with Cole. He was ready to head back to their motel room soon, antsy. He didn't like that they'd left Alex and Avery for so long. While he'd once hated the skinwalker, he appreciated her skills sometimes, and he didn't entirely _dislike_ her hanging around. It was nice to have someone biting out sarcasm every now and then.

Or every second of every day.

And she helped him keep an eye on Sam.

She was useful.

Not liked, he told himself, but useful.

"You're the one that got away, Dean," Tessa told him. "You'd be surprised how little that happens to me."

"Can I tell you something?" Dean didn't know why he was talking. "Between you and me?"

"Who am I going to tell?" she hummed, gesturing at nothing.

"After our little, uh, experience...for that whole year, I felt like I had this...hole in my gut. Like I was missing something. I didn't know what." Dean glanced at her. "Do you know what it was?" She shook her head. "It was you. The pain of losing my father and Sammy. I just...I wish I had gone with you for good. But I guess things are different now."

"What?" She curled a lip, challenging him. "The angels on your shoulder? The skinwalker in your bed?" Dean grunted in disapproval at her words.

"Don't get me wrong. I mean, most angels and skinwalkers are dicks. Alex is...okay, and not in my bed, by the way. Cas is just weird. But still. You know, I've done things. Horrible things. And someone upstairs decided to give me a second chance. It's...weird."

Sam clearing his throat caught their attention. Tessa forced a smile to her face and turned to face Sam and Cole, who stood nervously behind him. "Hey, Cole. I'm Tessa," she murmured. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Cole stiffened. "It's okay," Sam soothed. "Tell them what you told me."

"I saw the smoke at my funeral," Cole muttered. Dean narrowed his eyes. "It was at the funeral home...it was everywhere."

Before he could continue, the lights flickered and they all went dead still.

"Are you doing that?" Dean rasped.

Tessa shook her head. "No," she said slowly.

The front door slammed open.

Within seconds, black smoke had filled the room, blinding them all. Dean ducked down, Sam shoving Cole down - or at least trying to. The eldest Winchester swore furiously as he waited and when it was done, he looked up and shouted for Tessa.

She was gone.

"Cole?" Sam questioned. "You good?"

"How the hell are we supposed to fight that?" Dean barked furiously.

"I don't know," Sam retorted. "Learn some ghost moves?"

"By tonight?" Dean snorted. "Yeah, sure. I'll meet you back at Mr. Miyagi's-"

"Who's that?" Cole asked, bewildered.

Sam didn't answer.

* * *

It was after a long day of running through how to fight as a ghost - under instruction by Cole, of course, who turned out to be surprisingly good at fighting - that the Winchesters went to the funeral home that the young ghost had mentioned.

Dean was getting even antsier than before, foot tapping impatiently as Sam ducked into the building. Dean followed him in and they made their way to a room. Dean froze in the doorway.

The room was hue, and in the middle of it, in an eight-pointed star, was Tessa and another reaper. At the far side of the star was a man, his eyes watching nothing.

"Dude," Dean breathed. "Check me out."

He stepped forward and disappeared. When he reappeared, he was behind the man. He tapped him on the shoulder and then punched him when he turned to look. The man swore, lashing out. Sam copied his brother's actions with a grin, and together the Winchesters beat the man away.

"You know, this ghost thing is kind of cool," Dean said. Sam flashed him a quick grin that vanished when he caught sight of another man approaching. He carried a chain in his hands and grinned when Sam commented, "It's iron."

And it somehow surrounded them.

Dean swore, trying to figure out when it had happened as a third stepped in, eyes rolling back white. "Boys," Alastair laughed. "Find the place okay?"

Sam clamped his mouth shut.

Alastair approached the chain and hefted a shotgun that he'd carried up. Without hesitation, he fired it off at Dean, who disintegrated. "Rock salt," he purred. "Not so much fun now, is it?" Sam scowled as Dean reappeared beside him, lip curling in a motion that was similar to Alex's actions. "Go on," Alastair challenged Sam. "Try your mojo on me now!"

"Go to hell," Sam spat, furious.

"If only I could," the demon sighed. He crossed the room, taking up a new stance. "But they keep sending me back up to this arctic wasteland."

"To kill death?" Dean snipped.

"No," Alastair corrected. "To kill death _twice_. It takes two to break a seal...I figured another one would show up though. They're like lemmings." He shot the gun and Sam vanished. "By the way, it's...good to see you again, Dean."

"You can shoot us all you want," Dean snarled as Sam reappeared, hands wrapped around himself. "But you can't kill us."

Alastair beamed. "Is that so?" He shrugged. "We'll see. Anyhoo, the moon's in the right spot. The board is set. Let's get started, shall we?" He retrieved a weapon that had been hidden in the shadows, a scythe of sorts. He spun it thoughtfully, smirking.

"You're going to kill a reaper with that?" Dean eyed the scythe warily. "A little on the nose, don't you think?"

"Is it?" Alastair didn't seem too concerned. "An old friend lent it to me. You know, he doesn't really ride a pale horse? He does have three amigos though. And they're just jonesing for the apocalypse." He knelt beside the older reaper, grabbing him by the collar of his suit and hauling him up. He placed the scythe at his neck. "It pays to have friends in low places, don't you think?" And then he yanked, mumbling a cantation. Dean and Sam threw their hands in front of their faces when there was a white-blue light that blinded them.

Alastair moved onto Tessa, who'd taken on a terrified look, awake. She threw a desperate look at the Winchesters, who could do nothing but watch for the time being. Sam narrowed his eyes and suddenly focused sharply on a chandelier, ignoring Dean's demand to know what he was doing. Sam hissed an answer under his breath, and Dean settled down to assist him.

It took a moment, but finally, the chandelier's chain snapped.

It crashed to the ground, breaking the reaper trap. Tessa disappeared and reappeared at the chain, removing it hastily. As she took a stance beside the Winchesters, Dean smiled and wiggled his fingers mockingly. "Bye, bye," he told the fuming Alastair.

And then they were gone.

* * *

"How's it going?" Alex asked Pamela quietly as she stepped into the room. She could see the Winchesters, both still unconscious. Pamela had been sitting with them for hours now, not once leaving, even as Avery had returned. The cheerful woman had curled up on the couch to watch Harry Potter and was passed out.

"Fine," she murmured, not turning her head. "I'll give them a while longer before I summon them back, of course."

Alex nodded thoughtfully. Suddenly, her head snapped around. She growled low in her throat. "Stay here."

She bolted out of the room and into the main room, waking Avery and sending her in with Pamela. She waited until she heard the click of the door lock, her gaze flickering this way and that. "Where are you, you bloody bastard?" she growled.

Her answer came in the form of something crashing into her. Alex hit the ground with a snarl and a howl of pain, her arm twisting painfully beneath her. She lashed out, loosening her blade. The demon grinned as she threw him to the side, scrabbling to stab him. He kicked her sharply in the face after shooting to his feet. Alex cried out.

The demon kicked her blade away when she dropped while shooting to her hands and knees, reaching. Ignoring the blood streaming down her chin, Alex snarled. She threw herself forward, crashing into the demon's legs. He crashed down beside her, wrestling. Alex shrieked her fury.

And then, suddenly, the door to the room Pamela and Avery took shelter in flew open. Alex was too busy fighting to look over at who'd come, wheezing when he kicked her in the stomach. She lashed out, catching him with her elbow in his nose.

"Alex!"

Alex distantly recognized Sam's voice as he threw the dangerous black blade she used to her, and she expertly caught it by the hilt before driving it through the demon's eye - at the precise time that it drove a blade of its own into her shoulder. There was a crunch as it slammed through bone. Alex gasped as the demon fell dead before her knees, and let her hands grasp nervously at the blade after dropping her own.

"Sam," she sputtered pleadingly, not sure of how to react.

He dropped to kneel beside her. "You need a hospital-"

"Death's not here," she reminded him, heaving for air. She knew she couldn't die from the wound, logically. Even with death acting like it should in this strange town, she'd be fine. It just needed to be kept from bleeding and her skinwalker blood would handle the rest - and that included healing the bone.

"There was another one, it got Pamela in the gut," Sam muttered, eyeing the blade. "Okay, on the count of three, I'm going to take it out. One-"

Without hesitation, he ripped the blade from her shoulder. It didn't hurt, but it sure as hell felt funny enough that she yelped. She shuddered, feeling the strange sensation as she climbed to her feet, taking her own blade and lining it up along the inside of her arm. She took a deep breath.

"You okay?" Sam asked, standing beside her. He was too tall, Alex decided. Much too tall...with a sigh, she nodded, hugging herself. "Good. Let's go check on Pamela." She murmured her agreement, and they headed for the room that Pamela rested in, her face grim.

They ducked into the bedroom. Avery was white-faced, curled up in the middle of the bed. Her long dark hair was piled on top of her hair, her dark eyes darting around. Pamela sat on the edge of the bed Dean still rested in, her hand pressed to her stomach. Her breathing was ragged, her body shivering.

"Pamela," Alex began, but Pamela waved her off in favor of leaning over Dean's body to touch his forehead. "Imum vult decipi, ergo decipiatur," she whispered. "Vis, vis, vis." When she was done, she stumbled to her feet and Sam stepped forward, catching her arm and helping her.

Avery moved out of the way, telling Alex in a small voice, "We were just...sitting here. And then he broke in through the window and there was a knife-"

"Are you okay?" Alex said fiercely, and then swore softly as pain radiated from her shoulder. She smacked a hand over the wound and felt her face go as white as a ghost as her hand came back red. The reapers were back at work.

"Hey," Sam was saying desperately to Pamela, who was pressing her hand over her heavily bleeding stomach. "We just have to talk to Tessa. That's all. Get her to hold off reaping until we get you better-"

Dean shot upright suddenly, heaving for air. He looked bewildered, looking around as Pamela took a sip of a flask in her hand. His gaze locked on Alex for a moment, and then shifted to Pamela, eyes widening. "What happened?"

"Dean," Sam demanded. "Where's Tessa?"

Dean said nothing, and Pamela laughed shakily. She removed her glasses, showing off her white plastic eyes. She swallowed thickly, coughing softly. "I see," she muttered, and then laughed again at her own joke.

"Pamela, I'm so sorry," Alex croaked, her eyes shining with horrified tears.

"You don't deserve this," Sam added mournfully.

She suddenly snorted blood at him. "Yeah, I don't. I told you I didn't want anything to do with this, didn't I. Do me a favor." She coughed again, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her long dark hair fell into her face and Sam moved it aside for her. "Tell that bastard Bobby Singer...t-to go to hell for ever introducing me to you three bastards in the first place."

"Take it easy, Pamela," Dean mumbled, sliding from the bed. He stood beside his brother, arms crossed tightly, jaw working furiously. After a moment, he murmured, "If it's any consolation, you're going to a better place."

She choked, "You're lying. But what the hell, right? Everybody's gotta go sometime." She suddenly gestured for Sam, and he hastily leaned in. S he weakly grabbed his shoulder and murmured into his ear. Sam's eyes went wide and Alex said nothing, only narrowed her own suspiciously at him. Suddenly, Pamela coughed again. She leaned back, and Avery made a nervous sound when she stilled.

"Pamela!" Alex breathed.

But Pamela was gone.

* * *

 _Some more Avery! I like Avery. She's not going anywhere anytime soon, either._

 _Thanks to reviewers (Estella Hughes (for chapter 10) and Trench gun!) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	26. The Monster at the End of This Book

Alex's nose worked furiously as she limped into the comic store beside Sam, who held a tight grip on the leash that they'd connected to a collar wrapped around her throat. She growled when he tugged by accident, and he muttered an apology before loosening it.

The comic book store seemed normal - smelled normal. They'd come to see if the story in the newspaper had anything to do with a demon, but so far, she wasn't smelling anything out of the ordinary. Her icy eyes snapped to Dean when he cleared his throat, looking to a man behind the counter.

Her shoulder still ached with every step despite the short weeks that had passed. Pamela had been salted and burned as per tradition, with a distressed Bobby present. Avery had taken him home afterwards, promising that she'd take good care of him. They'd all been quiet afterwards, throwing themselves into their work or hobbies.

Alex had found that she was very good at sudoku puzzles in the awkward silence between the three of them.

"Uh, can I help you?" the man behind the counter questioned, giving them a suspicious look.

"Sure hope so," Dean said gruffly. "Agents DeYoung and Shaw. Just need to ask a few questions. Notice anything strange in the building? In the last few days?"

His brows rose. "Like what?"

"Well, some other tenants in the above apartments reported flickering lights," Sam supplied. He tightened his grip again on the leash when Alex grumbled and shifted impatiently. "Or noises. Any skittering in the walls like rats?"

"And the FBI is investigating a rodent problem?" he sneered, eyeing Alex. She bared her teeth.

"What about cold spots?" Sam urged, not the least bit deterred. "Any sudden drops in temperature?"

Suddenly, the man grinned. "I knew it!" he cried, making Alex jump. "You guys are LARPing, aren't you?!"

Alex blinked in bewilderment, looking to Sam, who made a miniscule shrug. "Excuse me?" Dean said, narrowing his eyes.

"You're fans!" He came around the corner, his eyes glowing.

"What the hell is LARPing?" Dean demanded.

"Like you don't know," he laughed. Dean glared. "Live-action role-play!" He eyed Alex, kneeling to pet her head without permission. Alex tensed, ready to snap at him to chase him away. "Pretty hardcore, too. You even have the right-looking dog!"

"I'm sorry, but we have no idea what you're talking about," Dean said stiffly, looking at his brother. Sam made a small gesture.

"You're asking questions like the building's haunted! Like those guys from the books. What are they called? _Supernatural_. Two guys using fake IDs with rock aliases hunt down ghosts, demon, vampires, that kind of stuff. The author wrote a skinwalker into the last few chapters."

Dean sputtered. "You're saying this is a book?!"

"Books," the man corrected. "It was a series. Didn't sell a lot of copies though. Kind of had more of an underground cult following." He made his way over to a bin labeled "bargains", searching through it. "Here we go! That's the first one," he told Dean, handing a book to him.

"'Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white lures men to their deaths,'" Dean recited,his voice tight. Sam snatched the book from his hands to look at it and then turned his gaze on Dean.

"We're gonna need all of the copies of _Supernatural_ you've got," he said without looking over.

Alex shivered when he brought them out.

* * *

"Bloody hell, these wouldn't be too bad if I didn't know you two."

"Shut up, Alex," Dean huffed, glaring over at her as she rolled onto her stomach, a book in hand. The two of them had been reading as Sam went to work on researching the author. "It's none of your business."

"Yes, it is," she disagreed. "You know about me, my turn to know about you." She made a face. "You really got nailed by that eighteen-wheeler, didn't you? You did really good work on the Impala. Didn't even know this happened."

Dean muttered under his breath. "This is freakin' insane! How's this guy know all this stuff?"

"You got me," Sam said with a frown.

"Everything is in here," Dean muttered, throwing his book aside. "I mean, everything. From the bugs to the lake issue we had… _everything_. Me having _sex_. I'm full-frontal in here, dude."

" _Really_ ," Alex mused, diving for the book he'd had. Dean wrestled it out of her grip, glaring furiously at her as she tried to pry it out of his.

"The books are pretty obscure," Sam murmured, not looking up from his laptop. "I mean, almost zero circulation. It started in '05 and the publisher put out a couple dozen before going bankrupt. The last one, _No Rest For the Wicked_? It ends with you going to Hell, Dean."

"I reiterate," Dean told him. "It's insane." He looked back to his phone as Alex skimmed through a book, trying to find herself. "Check it out, there's actually fans. Not many, but still. They sure do complain a lot. Listen to this. Simpatico says 'The demon storyline is trite, clichéd, and overall craptastic.'" He made a sound of disgust. "Yeah, well, screw you, Simpatico. We lived it."

Alex looked up. "Do they think demons are something to laugh about?"

"Let's see...there's fans who call themselves 'Lexies' - both guys and girls who like Alex. There's not so many. Then there's 'Sam girls' and 'Dean girls' and - what's a 'slash fan'?" Dean muttered, confused.

Alex choked, sputtering laughter. Sam smiled tightly. "As in Sam-slash-Dean, Dean. Together."

"...like together, together?" he breathed.

"Yep," Alex clarified.

"They know we're brothers, right?"

"Doesn't seem to matter."

Dean threw his phone and moaned in disgust. "That's just...that's just _sick_. We've got to find this author. Carver Edlund. I want to have a couple words with the bastard."

"Won't be that easy," Alex replied, not looking up from the book she was skimming through. "It's a pen name. No tax records, no known address, the likes. The only person who _might_ know who he really is would be the publisher of his books." Her gaze lifted as they stared at her. "What? It's obvious. Did you bloody morons think it was his real name? A lot of authors use pen names."

Sam inclined his head. "So...where do you think we'll find someone who knows him, Alex?"

"Easy." She threw the book at the back of Dean's head and he swore in pain, clutching it. "Publisher."

* * *

A woman ushered them into her home with a look of delight on her face. "Come in, come in, come in," she said urgently. Alex bit back a growl when she was pushed into the room. She didn't like being touched. Particularly by people who stared for abnormal amounts of time at her scarred face.

"You published the _Supernatural_ books?" Sam asked as the woman stood before them, arms crossed.

"Yep," she replied, smiling warmly. "Yeah. Gosh, those books. You know, they never really got the attention they deserved. All anybody wants to read anymore that romance shi-" She cut off. "You know, stuff like _Doctor Sexy, M.D._ " She snorted in disgust.

"Right," Sam said bluntly. "Well, we're hoping that our article can...shine a light on underappreciated series."

"Yeah, yeah, because you know? If we got a little bit of good press then maybe...maybe we could start publishing again!"

"No, no, no, no. God, no." Alex glared at Dean as he spoke and gave a bitter laugh. "I mean, why would you want to do that? You know, it's such a complete series, what with Dean going to Hell and all."

The publisher suddenly teared up. Dean looked horrified as she gasped, "Oh, my God! That was one of my favorite ones! Dean was so, so strong and sad and brave. And Sam...I mean, the best parts are when they'd cry. You know, like in _Heart_ when Sam had to kill Madison, the first woman since Jessica he really loved? And in _Home_ when Dean had to call John and ask him for help. And Alex...oh, my God! We never even got to see what went on between she and Sam after Dean was gone…" She sighed. "Gosh, if only real people were so open and in touch with their feelings…"

"Real people?" Dean muttered as Alex and Sam shifted uncomfortably.

"I mean, no offense, but how often do you cry like that?" she challenged, raising her eyebrows at him. Dean grimaced.

"Well," he told her, "Right now I'm crying on the inside."

Alex choked on nothing. "Is that supposed to be funny?" the publisher challenged.

"Lady," he replied, "This whole thing is hilarious."

Alex elbowed him, glaring.

"How do I know you three are legit?" The publisher suddenly went serious. "I've never heard of more than two journalists working together at a time."

"Trust me," Alex reassured. "They're legit. I'm just a friend helping out."

"Good." She gave a curt nod. "I don't want any smart-ass article making fun of my boys."

Alex hid a grin at the look on Dean's face as Sam reassured, "We're actually, uh, big fans."

"You've read the books?" she questioned.

"Cover to cover," Alex said honestly. Not that she was honest. She'd learned that truthful tones helped in lying.

Immediately, she launched into a series of questions, suspicious still. "Year and model of the car?"

"1967 Chevy Impala," Dean replied immediately.

"The second of May?"

"My - uh, I mean, Sam's birthday," Sam said hastily. "The twenty-fourth of January is Dean's."

"The fifth of November is Alex's," Alex added.

"Sam's score on the LSAT?"

"One...seventy-four?" Sam looked uncertain, but was relieved when the publisher nodded in approval.

"Dean's favorite song?"

Dean grinned. "It's a tie. Between Zep's 'Ramble On' and 'Traveling Riverside Blues'."

"Alex's favorite candy?"

Alex smirked. "Any kind of chocolate because it helps her feel normal."

"Okay," the publisher accepted finally and the trio groaned in relief. "What do you want me to tell you?"

"What's Carver Edlund's real name?" Sam fired off immediately, looking hopeful. His hopes were dashed when the publisher gave him a startled look

"Oh, no," she said apologetically. "I...no. Sorry, I can't do that. He's very private."

"We just want to talk to him," Sam pleaded. "You know, get the _Supernatural_ story in his own words. Like we said, we're _huge_ fans." With a cringe, he drew his collar down to show off the anti-possession symbol over his heart. He gave Dean and Alex a look. Alex shrugged, but Dean reluctantly, rolling his eyes, tugged his own collar down.

The publisher eyed them with an eager list, her eyes caressing their revealed collarbones and then smiled brightly. "Awesome. You know what?" She turned and with a wink, hiked her skirt up to show them a tattoo. Alex gritted her teeth. "I got one, too. Okay, you've broken me down." She dropped her skirt to grab a notepad and write something down. "His name's Chuck Shurley, and he's a genius. So don't piss him off."

"Thanks," Alex said and took the notepad from her. "We'll be off then. Thank you!" She grabbed the Winchesters' arms and directed them towards the door. Sam looked amused with her, but Dean was merely confused.

"What'd we do?"

* * *

When they arrived at the address they'd been given, Alex stripped and stuffed her clothes into a bag. She shoved that bag at Sam and told him, "Keep it on you in case I change my mind." He sputtered, shocked that she'd just stripped in front of him. Alex ignored him and shifted, shaking her form out afterwards.

Dean let her out of the car on his side and then closed it, sharing a look with his brother as the trio approached the house. Alex trotted along beside him, fluffy tail whisking behind her. She approached the door first and sat down, waiting impatiently as Dean stepped up beside her with Sam at his heels. They gave each other one more look.

Dean pressed the doorbell.

It took a minute, but finally, the door opened. Alex woofed softly, sneezing once. The man stared at her through squinted eyes and then looked up at them. She studied him carefully, taking in his dirty wrinkled clothes, wild curly hair and beard, and watery dark eyes. "Uh...can I help you?"

"Are you Chuck Shirley?" Sam asked, studying him. "The Chuck Shurley who wrote the _Supernatural_ books?"

"Maybe," he said defensively. "Why?"

"I'm Dean," Dean introduced bluntly. "This is Sam. And the mutt here is Alex. We're the three you've been writing about." Alex gave him a wolfish grin.

Chuck closed the door.

Dean huffed and jammed a finger against the bell again. Chuck reluctantly opened it, smiling faintly. "Look, uh...I appreciate the enthusiasm, boys. Really, I do. It's always nice to hear from the fans, and I'm actually really impressed that you've the exact dog I described as Alex's canine part, but I highly suggest you get a life." He went to shut the door again, but Alex wedged her way between the door and the frame, curling a lip.

"Here's the thing," Dean snapped, shoving the door open entirely. Alex slid in and he followed. Sam sighed unhappily and followed suit. Chuck hurried away from Alex's bared teeth. "We have a life. You've been using it to write your books."

"Look, we just want to know how you're doing it," Sam said a bit gentler.

"I'm not doing anything!"

"Are you a hunter?" Dean demanded with a glare, his face in a furious scowl.

"What?" Chuck sputtered. "No, I'm a writer!"

Alex clicked her jaws as he continued. "Then how do you know so much about demons? And Tulpas and changelings?"

"Is this some kind of _Misery_ thing? It is, isn't it! A _Misery_ thing!" Chuck cried, panicking as he fell onto a couch, terrified of Dean's advance.

"It's not a _Misery_ thing," Dean snapped. "Believe me, we are not fans!"

"Well, then, what do you want?!"

"I'm Sam, and that's Dean," Sam said firmly. "And the skinwalker near you is Alex."

"I made them up!" he wailed. "Sam and Dean and Alex are fictional characters! They're not - _please_ , can you get your dog away from my face?!" he cried as Alex suddenly shoved her snout near his face, teeth showing.

"Alex," Sam warned, but she suddenly snorted and willed herself into her human appearance, smirking. Chuck looked horrified as she cocked her head a fraction and practically purred, "Still think we're just fans, Mr. Shurley?"

"Oh, my God," Chuck whispered in terror. "Oh." His face paled. "Please. _Please_ don't hurt me!"

"We aren't going to hurt you," Alex retorted as Sam rolled his eyes and tossed the bag she'd demanded he bring at her. She dressed, glaring at the smirking Dean the entire time, and then told him, "We want to know how much you know. You heard of the angels? Or Lilith breaking the seals?" His mouth falling open answered her question. "You kept writing."

"Well, yeah," he said anxiously. "Even after the publisher went bankrupt. This is some kind of illusionary joke. Right? Did Phil put you up to this?"

She blanched. "I just showed you-"

"I'm Sam Winchester," Sam cut in before she could get too annoyed. "This is my brother Dean, and that's Alexandriana Montgomery."

Chuck's gaze flickered back and forth. "I never even wrote the last names down...oh, boy. Oh, my God." He stumbled to his feet, reaching for a bottle of whiskey on his desk. He sank into his desk chair, taking a large swig right out of the bottle. After a moment, he said, "There's only one explanation. Obviously, I'm a god."

"You're not a god," Dean snorted.

"How else do you explain it?" he wailed. "I write things and then they come to life! I'm definitely a god. A cruel, cruel, capricious god. The things I put you guys through...the physical beatings alone! I killed your father. I burned your mother alive. And then Sam had to go through the whole horrific deal again with Jessica...and oh, my God, what I did to Alex-"

"Chuck," Sam cut in, but Chuck went on without stopping.

"All for what?" he said with a bitter laugh. "For the sake of literary symmetry. I toyed with your lives, your emotions, for entertainment."

"You didn't toy with us, Chuck," Dean said with an exasperated groan. "Okay? You didn't create us."

He gave him a look of horror. "Did you really have to live through the bugs?" Alex shuddered at the thought as Dean and Sam gave curt nods, having read the section in the books. "I'm so, so sorry! I mean, horror is one thing...but to be forced to live bad writing? If I would have known it was real, I would have done another pass."

"Chuck!" Alex threw her hands in the air. "You're not a bloody god! We think you might be psychic, that's it."

"No, no, if I were a psychic, do you think I'd be writing?" He narrowed his eyes. "Writing is hard."

"Are you working on anything now?" Sam asked, rubbing his temples. He was quickly losing patience with the man, and Alex couldn't blame him. She was, too.

"Holy crap," Chuck whispered, eyes suddenly going wide. He scrambled for his printer, snatching pieces of paper out of it. "This latest book? It's, uh kind of weird." He hesitated, faltering. "I wrote myself, at my home...confronted by my characters."

"That's weird," Alex muttered, frowning. "Interesting."

And she snatched the papers from his fingers.

* * *

They received a call from Chuck on Alex's phone while they were at a laundromat, doing laundry. Within an hour, they'd shown back up, and Alex watched as Chuck paced anxiously before them, her eyes following lazily. It was like a cat and a mouse.

"So...you wrote another chapter?" Sam urged patiently.

"This was so much easier before you were real," Chuck admitted tiredly, rubbing his temples as he continued to pace. "You're so not gonna like this."

"I didn't like Hell," Dean retorted, and Alex snorted.

"It's Lilith." Everyone's attention sharpened on Chuck. "She's coming. For Sam."

"Comin to kill him?" Alex snipped, staring at him with intent. "Where's she going to show up? When?"

"Tonight," Chuck said, perching glasses on his nose. He shuffled through a manuscript until he found what he was looking for. "'Lilith patted the bed seductively. Unable to deny his desire, Sam succumbed, and they sank into the throes of fiery demonic passion,'" he recited, then looked up.

Sam blinked, and then began to laugh. "You're kidding me right? 'Fiery demonic passion'? I mean, come on."

"It's just a first draft," Chuck said defensively.

"I thought Lilith was a little girl," Alex stated, thinking, eyes darting this way and that in thought.

"Not this time," the "psychic" replied, rubbing the back of his head. He looked down at his manuscript. "She's a 'comely dental hygienist from Bloomington, Indiana' now."

"Great,' Dean snapped in frustration. "Perfect. So what happens after the 'fiery demonic' whatever?"

"I don't know. It hasn't come to me yet," Chuck admitted.

Dean swore under his breath.

"Dean, look," Sam said, trying to calm him. "There's nothing to worry about. Lilith and me? In _bed_?"

Dean threw his brother a nasty look, but Alex cut in, leaning back on the couch and crossing her legs at the knee. Folding her hands in her lap, she said neutrally, "Mr. Shurley, please. Tell me what your process is."

"W-well," he stammered, setting the manuscript aside and looking at her. "It usually starts with a headache. A really, really bad headache. Aspirin is useless, so...I drink. Until I fall asleep. The first time it happened, I thought it was just a crazy dream. It flowed...it kept flowing. It still does. I can't stop it."

Chuck offered her the manuscript. She took it and Alex flashed the annoyed Dean a quick smile. "Look," she said, "Let's take a look at these and see what's going on, okay?" She paused, realizing that she'd cut Chuck off. She looked to him expectantly.

He flushed.

He'd been about to suggest that very idea, knowing she'd say it.

* * *

"Dean, come on," Sam groaned as they drove through town. Alex was in the passenger seat for once, the papers held in her hands. She glared at him for interrupting. "'The minivan accident wasn't that bad, but Dean was still seeing stars,'" he read over Alex's shoulder. "'He scratched absently at the pink flower band-aids on his face.'"

Alex stared for a few moments and then burst into hysterical laughter, stifling her laughter with a hand when Dean scoffed at her. "I'm sorry," she wheezed. "You...I just...we've seen you gushing blood. You'd use bloody beer-soaked rags and duct tape before you'd put a pink bandage on."

"My point is this - all of this - is totally implausible, it's nuts," Sam cut in over her.

"I don't know," Alex said uncertainly, shuffling through the papers. Sam snatched them away before he could finish. "Hey!"

"He's been right about everything so far," Dean pointed out. "You think he's just gonna ground out at first now?"

"'Dean slid behind the wheel of his beloved Impala and drove off, the plastic tarp on the rear window flapping like the wings of a crow,'" Sam read.

"A _tarp_?" Dean sputtered.

"Yeah. On the rear window. And you drive it like that," Sam retorted, scowling.

"Well," Dean admitted, "He might be wrong about the details, but that doesn't mean he's wrong about the end result."

"Dean," Alex murmured, "We can't just run...there's no escaping something like this. While we're a long way from ready for a face-to-face match with Lilith, there's no way we can stay away from her if she wants to see us."

Dean waved for them to shut up as the car slowed and for the first time, Alex took notice of the roadblock ahead. Dean reluctantly rolled down his window, remembering just how often deputies had turned out to be demons as the man leaned over to rest his elbows on the car door. "What seems to be the problem?"

The deputy gave him an apologetic look. "Bridge is out ahead."

"We just want to get out of town," Alex said before Dean could blow up.

"Yeah, afraid not," he said. "No detours or side-roads either. You can't get across the river, you'd have to take the bridge."

"How deep is the river?" Dean demanded, but the deputy shook his head and pulled back.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm afraid you boys are gonna have to spend the night in town."

Dean smacked the wheel of the Impala as the deputy walked off and then reversed the car. Before long, they were heading back into town. Alex rested her head back, brow furrowed as she thought over everything that had happened recently. "This does not bode well for us," she sighed softly.

"I'd say," Sam muttered.

"We'll just have to be careful," Alex continued. "We won't leave you alone in a motel room. That'll help, right?"

"Maybe," Sam agreed, looking at Dean when Dean breathed in deeply and then exhaled. "Dean?"

"I'm fine, just...pissed," he said after a long moment of silence. Frustration was written across his face as he pulled the Impala into a diner parking lot. _Dinner_ , Alex thought eagerly. Dean parked the car and then turned the engine off, sitting back in silence. "Any word from Barachiel?" he said suddenly.

"Wait," Sam demanded, "What? Barachiel?"

"She's being stalked by an angel called Barachiel, found her when we found out siren venom is just that." Dean waved his brother's shock off and then focused back on Alex, who was suddenly _very_ interested in her phone. "Alex, did you summon him?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes.

She squirmed. "I tried," she admitted finally. "But Castiel showed up instead and we chatted a little. I asked about Avery and why the demons had shown interest, but he didn't give me anything more than 'not what you think her to be'. We talked about Heaven and how those who deserve it actually go there. My family's in Heaven. My parents. And then he told me that Barachiel isn't someone I should trust. He doesn't care about us. Cas said that I can't allow Barachiel freedom over me. He left after I asked if Matt was really in any danger from demons."

Both men groaned and she became defensive. "Faff off, you twats! I was worried about my family!"

"So you threw your hex bag away? How long has it been since you've had it?" Sam demanded.

She glared at him with sharp icy eyes. "Zero days, zero minutes, and zero bloody seconds. It's in my pocket. Contrary to popular belief, Cas appears to be one of the good guys and gave it back to me."

" _Really_?" Dean murmured thoughtfully, studying her with curiosity. "Cas gave it back?"

Alex nodded curtly. "Yes. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go inside and eat. Sam, bring the manuscript." She climbed out of the Impala, muttering about them under her breath.

"You know," Dean said as they headed into the diner at long last, "this could be a good thing. I mean, what if this is what puts us on the path to Lilith? All we have to do is get off the path."

"How do you mean?" Sam sighed, raising a brow at his brother.

"It's a blueprint of what not to do." Dean explained. "I mean, if the pages say that we go left…"

"Then we go right." Alex murmured.

"Exactly." Dean looked excited now. "We get off-book. We never make it to the end." He dropped into a seat, his eyes glittering. Alex slid into the seat beside him, Sam across from both. "It's opposite day. It says that we get into a fight? No fighting."

"No researching for me then." Sam said glumly, frowning at the manuscript. Suddenly, he grinned. "No bacon cheeseburger, Dean. Or salad, Alex."

"Who the bloody hell wants a salad anyways?" Alex muttered with a pout. Dean looked horrified by the idea of changing his meal. As the waitress came over, all ready batting her eyelashes, Alex sighed. "Bacon cheeseburger for me, please." Dean gave her a nasty look before ordering a veggie tofu burger. Sam ordered a salad.

"That's rude," Dean accused, glaring at her.

She shrugged. "You can't eat it. No one said anything about me."

Scoffing, Sam smacked the manuscript onto the table, scowling. "This whole thing is ridiculous! The idea of me hooking up with her? Ugh."

"Right." Dean rolled his eyes. "Because that's something that can never happen."

"Winchester," Alex said warningly, not in the mood for his snide comments. He ignored her, waving her off.

"Look," Sam said with infinite patience, "Dean, for the first time, we have a warning that Lilith is close. We've got the jump on her. If we know she's coming, we know where she's...this is an opportunity!"

Immediately, Dean looked pissed, but Alex cut in, saying gently, "Guys, none of us are ready to face off with Lilith. Sam, Winchester number one doesn't want you to get yourself killed and neither do I. Winchester number one, Sam just wants to get his revenge and so do I. Look, the point is, none of us can handle Lilith, and I think we should just stay in this bloody diner until three weeks from now."

Sam's lips twitched but before anyone could say anything more, the waitress appeared, hands laden with food. "Cobb salad for you," she hummed, handing a salad to Sam, who smiled faintly at her. "Bacon cheeseburger for you, and a tofu veggie burger for you." She smiled broadly as she set the food down and then left after Dean thanked her.

"We're not _hiding_ ," Dean continued after a moment, leaning in as he picked his burger up. "We're being smart, picking our battles, Sam. Like Alex said, we're not ready to fight." He tore a huge bite into his burger and then gasped. Alex, mid-bite in her own, suddenly frowned. "Oh, my god," he breathed. "This is delicious! Tofu is amazing-"

"That's because," Alex growled, shoving her burger away with a snarl of disgust. "That's _my_ burger. Here's yours." She prodded the tofu burger towards him and Dean stared at the one he held in shock.

Sam smirked and took a bite of salad.

* * *

"We're going to go broke here," Alex muttered as she stepped into the room. She made a face at the dirtiness of it all. This motel was meant for sex, and it was very clear to her nose that sex was all it was used for.

"Yeah, well," Dean retorted, "The book says Lilith found you at the Red Motel. Hence the hooker inn." Alex scowled. "It's opposite day." He dropped his bag on a bed and then tossed something to Alex, ordering, "Put those around the room."

"Yeah, yeah." She did as he said. "What the bloody hell, Dean? Do you truly think a couple of hex bags will Lilith-proof?"

Sam sighed heavily, exasperated with all of this. "What? Am I just supposed to hole up here all night?"

"That's exactly what you're gonna do." Dean snatched up Sam's laptop when Sam pulled it out, earning a glare. "Alex, take this. No research for anyone. I don't care what you do, Sam. But no research."

"Dude," Sam tried to protest as Alex took the laptop.

"Call it a little insurance," Dean retorted as Alex shoved it into her own bag.

"What are you going to do?" Sam huffed, crossing his arms. "If you're not going to research? Or you, Alex? Are you going to run around on all fours and sniff out demons?"

"Maybe. Or I might go chat with an angel. I don't know yet." Alex studied her nails.

"The pages say that I spend all day riding around in the Impala." Dean shifted back onto his heels. "So I'm going to go park her. Behave yourself, would you? No homework. Come on Alex!" He grabbed her wrist and hauled her out the door despite her snarling in agitation at him and nearly dropping the laptop.

"Could you let go?" Alex muttered, shaking him loose. "You know that we're not going to get in our way, right?"

"We can try." His eyes flashed. "And another thing. No summoning angels. Didn't you get warned off of Barachiel?"

"Who said I was aiming for Barachiel?"

"Okay, no Castiel, no Uriel, none of them." Dean unlocked the Impala and Alex crawled into the front seat. She strapped herself in and then pushed the laptop into the backseat, looking at him. "Go and gamble like a normal person."

"You know," she mused, "I wonder if there's a place to gamble lives."

"I don't know, but that's not funny. And not a good idea." Dean started the engine and pulled out quickly. Alex saw the curtains in the window of the motel room they'd left fall into place as Sam dropped them.

* * *

Dean drove around town for nearly an hour, searching for the perfect place to park the Impala. When he _finally_ parked, Alex was ready to throttle him. After shouting at him for a moment, snapping about him and his ridiculous need for perfection, she waited for him to check the doors of his car.

"Are we finally done?" she rumbled as he gave a firm nod to himself.

"Yes," he confirmed. "Now, I'm going to go get a burger. You do whatever the hell you want - except for summoning angels."

"Got it. I'll summon a bloody demon instead."

He glared.

"What?" Alex scoffed. "I'm not going to be an idiot. Besides, I wasn't serious in the first place. Someone's a worry wart, aren't you?" She rolled her eyes and started down the sidewalk, swinging his keys around her finger.

He paused, studying the keys, and then frantically checked his pocket. "Alex!" he shouted, darting after her. He crossed the street. "Give those back!"

She smirked over her shoulder and then tossed them towards him. He caught them with ease and gave her the blackest of glares. And then he whipped around when there was a crash. Alex looked back, too, and her jaws parrted in surprise at the sight of a pair of teenagers smashing through the back window of the Impala.

"Hey!" Dean yelled, sprinting forward.

A short shriek of surprise left Alex's lips as a van suddenly struck him. He hit the pavement and Alex darted over to him in an instant, her blue eyes wide with shock. "Winchester?!"

A woman slid from the van, tears gathering hastily in her eyes. "Oh, my God-"

Alex kneeled beside him, promptly checking for injuries. He didn't look too bad despite being unconscious. She supposed he'd merely knocked himself out by hitting his head on the pavement.

"Oh, my God," the woman whispered. "Is he okay? Should I call an ambulance?"

"I'm a doctor," Alex lied immediately. The woman looked relieved. Alex grimaced, feeling horrible that she wasn't actually a doctor and couldn't honestly help Dean if he needed it. A girl - the woman's daughter - came to kneel beside Alex with morbid curiosity as her mother paced anxiously. When Dean didn't immediately wake up, Alex worried, but that didn't stop her from smirking as the girl hesitantly pasted some pink flowered band-aids on his cheek.

But then he finally stirred almost ten minutes later. He faltered, confused, and Alex smirked down at him, blue eyes glittering. "Hey, Winchester. You good?"

"Stars," he slurred for a moment. It took her a second to find the stars he was seeing - star-decorated earrings on the woman that rushed to kneel over him.

"Okay," Alex muttered, arching a brow. "Stars. Nice."

He blinked and then focused a little more, sitting up with a grimace. "I'm so sorry!" the woman blurted. "I didn't see you. Are you okay?!"

"Yeah." He frowned, running a hand down his face. "Yeah, my head hurts, but I'm fine."

"Good." Alex made a low sound in the back of her throat when she followed his sudden angry gaze towards the Impala. Horror crossed his face when he saw the shattered back window. "Sorry. I love the bloody car, but humans have priority."

"My _car_ ," he whispered in horror, stumbling to his feet. Alex reassured the woman as he staggered over to it. After finishing the conversation, Alex jogged after him, hissing, "Hold on for one bloody second, would you?! You were just hit by a car!"

"My car," he repeated bluntly. Dean's green eyes flickered with anger as he studied the shattered window. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of himself in one of the untouched windows. Sputtering, he stared harshly at his own reflection.

She smirked. "The girl wanted to help."

Dean shot her a glare and ripped the band-aids from his face. Alex felt satisfied when he flinched in pain. "Get your ass," he seethed, "in the car, Alex." She raised a brow. "We're going to visit Chuck."'

* * *

"We shouldn't have broken in," Alex mumbled, feeling bad as Dean stared at the door, not moving from his place on Chuck's couch. "We should have just waited on the porch like a normal person."

"You're a skinwalker," he muttered.

She clenched her jaw. "Something I'm not likely to forget with you around. I know I"m a bloody skinwalker. It doesn't mean I'm not a person?"

He didn't respond, still staring at the door.

A dark smile crossed his face when the door opened.

Chuck didn't look very surprised to see them there as he walked in with a bottle in one hand a sick-pack of beer in the other. He kicked the door shut and and sighed, "Alex, Dean."

Alex perked, looking delighted that she'd been greeted first. "Hullo, Chuck!"

"I take it you knew we'd be here," Dean said with a deadly calm.

"You look terrible," Chuck admitted with a guilty look fluttering over his face.

"That's 'cause I just got hit by a minivan, Chuck," he said quietly. When Chuck made a soft "oh", his gaze darkened and he sat forward, glaring furiously. "That's it? Every damn thing you write about comes true? And all you have to say is "oh"?!"

"Dean," Alex warned with a rumbling growl. "Stop yelling at him. It's not going to help."

But Dean continued without looking at her. "Why do I get the feeling there's something that you're not telling us?" Chuck gestured helplessly as Dean stalked closer, ignoring Alex's warning. "How you know...what you know! How do you know it?!"

"I don't know how I know," Chuck practically wailed as Dean suddenly shoved him against a wall, green eyes blazing.

"That's not good enough!" Dean snarled in his face. "How the hell are you-"

"Dean."

Dean froze and Alex's lips parted in surprise as her blue eyes turned on Castiel. Chuck sputtered at the sight of the angel, staring. Reluctantly, under a harsh crystal blue gaze, Dean released him. "Dean," Castiel repeated roughly. "This man is to be protected." He looked at Alex, stating bluntly, "He's a prophet of the Lord."

"Oh," Chuck said faintly. "You...you're Castiel."

Castiel's attention turned on him. For the first time, Alex thought she saw true kindness slide over his face. "It is an honor to meet you, Chuck," he said sincerely. "I admire your work." Without waiting for permission, or even asking, the angel stepped up to Chuck's cluttered desk and picked up a book, wordlessly flipping through it.

"A prophet?" Alex breathed, scanning her mental database for any inclination on what she knew on them. "Really? Chuck," she said and then paused, frowning when she found him shakily pouring himself a glass of whiskey, half-sitting in an armchair. "Did you...know?"

"I might have dreamt it," he mumbled faintly.

"You didn't _tell us_?" Dean blurted, furious as he glared.

Castiel flipped through more pages as if he didn't care for what was happening, but Alex saw his all-knowing gaze on them, shifting from person to person, pausing on her. He narrowed his gaze and she quickly looked back at Chuck.

"It was too preposterous," Chuck protested. "It was...arrogant. To write yourself into the writing is one thing. But as a _prophet_?" He tilted his head back and sucked down the alcohol.

"This guy decides our fate?" Dean wore an incredulous look, horrified.

"No," Alex said at the same time that Castiel murmured, "He's a mouthpiece - a conduit for the inspired word."

Alex cleared her throat and continued, shooting a look of irritation at the innocent looking angel. "The word of God, Dean. He writes the word of God into books."

Castiel wore a look of faint amusement as he gently set the book down. "One day, they'll be known as the Winchester gospel."

"You've got to be kidding me," Chuck sputtered.

"I am not…" Castiel faltered, looking to Alex for help. She grinned a little. "I am not kidding you."

"Excuse me," Chuck whispered, and then grabbed his whiskey and bolted upstairs.

"I can't believe this," Dean grumbled. He raked a hand through his short dark hair, looking at Alex sharply out of nowhere. "How'd you know what a prophet is?"

"Research, you aggressive twat. Castiel," Alex continued, focusing on the angel entirely and choosing to ignore the moron beside her as he came to stand at her shoulder. Her eyes flickered anxiously. "Who chose Chuck?"

"I am uncertain." Castiel spoke quietly yet firmly. "The orders is...high up on the celestial chain of command." Dean arched a brow and he added, "Very high."

"Okay, onto more important matters." Dean glared at Castiel, fiercely staring. Alex groaned, wanting to take this man and throw him around until he lost the aggression. "How the hell do we stop the Sam-Lilith love connection. How do we stop it?"

"What the prophet has written can't be unwritten." Castiel sighed softly. "As he has seen it, so shall it come to pass."

Dean stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Alex puffed out an agitated breath and then turned to the angel. "Cas, are you sure there's nothing?"

The angel shook his head and then suddenly tilted his head. Alex scowled at the sound of the Impala starting and roaring away without her - abandoning her to an angel and what remained of the drunken Chuck's sanity. Swallowing thickly, furious yet understanding Dean's impatience, she murmured, "Are you _sure_?"

"I am sure," he replied. He paused and then smiled a fraction. "I can hear him praying. Dean. He is praying that something...some _one_ will help Sam." Alex furrowed her brow, bewildered. "Prayer is a sign of faith. It is a very good thing for Dean."

"Can you find something to help us?" she whispered.

"I'm not sure that there is anything I can do, or even something that someone else can do." Castiel shifted unhappily. "It's a prophecy. I cannot interfere."

She didn't want to push him, knew what he was capable of. Didn't want to defend the arrogant arse who had left her here, didn't want to defend his dumbass of a brother. Yet she opened her mouth and said shakily, "Castiel. You have tested him - all of us. We have been thrown every which way. And in all of this time, Dean has not asked for one damn thing. He is asking you now to help him. Just...bloody help him."

"It's not within my power to do." Yet Castiel looked wary, uncertain - pained.

Her voice broke. "Then what are we to do? Sit and wait?" He gave her a mournfully apologetic look and her temper flared. "Bloody hell," she spat. "What good are you bloody angels? Why should I follow the word of God if he doesn't give a damn about us, Castiel? Tell me why, when the time comes, we should help you."

He faltered again. Paused, opened his mouth, closed it. He thought this over, mulling it over in his head, and then gave a steady response, suddenly grabbing her wrist when she turned to stalk out and find a ride back to town.

"Alex," he murmured, "You must understand. I can't intercede. Prophets...they're incredibly special. Protected." She caught the urgency in his tone and looked to him. "If anything," he stressed, blue eyes blazing, "threatens a prophet, anything at all...an archangel will appear to destroy that threat. Archangels are absolute, fierce. They are one of Heaven's most terrifying weapons."

Alex's lips quirked. "They're tied to prophets?" He nodded curtly. "So...say a prophet was thrown in the same room as Lilith-"

Castiel, much to her shock, smiled broadly. "Then the most fearsome wrath of Heaven would rain down on that demon." He pulled back, arm falling to rest at his side. "Just so you understand why I cannot help."

"Thank you." She smiled back, even as his lips pressed together as she took her blade from its place and twirled it.

"Good luck, Alexandriana Montgomery."

And then Castiel, angel of the Lord, was gone.

The second he was no longer there, Alex dove for her phone. SHe dialed Sam's number, but came up blank. Cursing, she tried Dean's.

"Bloody _hell_!" she wailed as she got his voicemail. "Dean _bloody_ Winchester!" she shrieked into the speaker, "I will make your worst nightmares come true if you don't answer your damn phone!" Lowering her voice, she forced herself to grit out in a softer tone, "Cas is a lifesaver. For _Sam_. Get to Chuck's _now_."

She threw her phone into her pocket after hanging up and then stormed up the stairs. She hunted for him, tracking him by scent alone. When she found him, he was behind a door that had been shut and locked. She took a deep breath and then knocked. "Chuck," she called, softening her voice. "Chuck, _please_."

After a long moment, the door cracked open and Chuck peeked out at her. "Alex," he muttered, "You're still here."

"Yes," she agreed, "And we'll both be leaving soon, as long as Winchester stops being a moron and comes to pick us up." He gave her a cranky and suspicious look. "Trust me, Chuck. You won't be in any danger."

 _Sort of_.

Chuck gave her a narrow-eyed glare. "Trust you? After you all came in here threatening me?"

"I'd like to quietly mention that I did _not_ threaten you," Alex bit out, smiling charmingly. "Now please, Chuck? I swear on my life I'll make sure I die before you do."

"...you don't lie," he admitted. "You avoid it if you can and I'll believe you for now." He swung the door open, stepping out. "What are we doing?"

"I'll tell you in a moment. Castiel is a bloody angel." She paused to snicker and then grinned as her sharp ears caught the sound of a car screeching into the driveway, slamming on the brakes. She nudged Chuck down the stairs. They were half way down when the door flew open and Dean demanded, "What do you mean?"

She smirked. "On the way, Winchester."

"I didn't write this," Chuck said anxiously as she coaxingly pushed him towards the Impala, through the front door. She watched intently as he got in and then climbed into the passenger seat. Dean swung in and hit the gas.

"Start talking, Alex!"

"Chuck's going to stop Lilith."

Chuck sputtered, and then burst out laughing. "Lilith? Are you _insane_? I know what she's capable of, I wrote her! Like hell I can stop a demon like that!"

"Hate to admit it, but I'm with him," Dean muttered. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as Alex growled, waiting for them to finish talking. "Sorry."

"Cas is an angel," she repeated, snickering at her own words before she continued. "He mentioned something very important. He explained why he can't intercede. He can't help because prophets have this lovely little...shield. Chuck here has an _archangel_ tethered to him." Her smile widened, twisting her gruesome scar into a terrifying look that made Chuck whimper. "We've just got to prop him up in the room, and-"

"Boom!" Dean finished, understanding in his eyes. "Lilith gets smoked."

"I haven't seen this," Chuck gasped, panicking. "The story-"

"Chuck," Alex said kindly, "We don't have another choice right now, okay?"

"This isn't a story anymore, man," Dean snapped, losing patience when Chuck tried to protest again. "This is _real_! And you're in it! Now, I need you to get off your _ass_ and fight!"

"No." Chuck clenched his jaw as Alex turned a disbelieving look on him.

Dean smiled and shifted, digging in the waist of his jeans. His eyes were suspiciously bright as he lifted a gun - Alex noted the safety and faced forward to hide her smile. "How about this, Chuck?" he challenged, looking in the mirror at the prophet. "I've got this lovely little gun. And if you don't cooperate, I'll blow your brains out."

"I thought you said I was protected by an archangel."

"Here's an interesting idea." Dean suddenly snapped his head around to glare at Chuck, who wailed for him to keep his eyes on the road. Dean ignored him and smirked. "Let's see who the quicker draw it, shall we?"

Alex ran a hand down her face and decided aloud, "Winchester, you've lost it."

He set the gun aside and patted it.

Alex got the message loud and clear.

 _Nothing is more important than Sam._

* * *

A knock on the door had Sam surging from his seat. He stared long and hard at the door and then slowly made his way over to it. He rested a hand on the curved handle and then flung the door open. He frowned when he discovered it empty. Nudging it shut, he shook his head and turned-

"Hello, Sam," Lilith said softly, smiling patiently from where she stood.

Sam smirked, a nasty little look in her eyes. "I've been waiting for you."

"Where's the knife, Sam?" was her only response, and he jerked his chin towards the nightstand. She started for it, only to pause. Scowling, she stooped to lift a rug - revealing a devil's trap. She smirked, rolling her eyes. Kneeling on one knee, she ran her finger over it, burning it away. She glanced over at Sam. "You'll have to try a lot harder, Sam." A laugh escaped her when he tried to exorcise her, hand outstretched. "You're strong. But not that strong...not yet."

"So why don't you throw me around then?" he demanded sarcastically, flinging his hands unhappily.

"I can't and you know it." A sneer entered her voice. "You're immune to my charms." She sidled a step closer. "It seems we're at a stalemate. Look, I came to talk."

"And I'm not interested," Sam scoffed.

"Hm," she hummed, stepping closer. "Even if I'm offering to stand down? From the seals? The apocalypse? All of it?" He gave her an incredulous look. "Honestly? I don't expect you to believe it. You were always the smart one. But it's the truth. You can end it Sam. RIght here…" A step. "Right now…" Another. "I'll stop breaking seals. Lucifer rots in his cage. And all you have to do.." She leaned in. "...is agree to my terms."

"Why would you back down?" he challenged, wary. "Why now?"

She sat back with a scowl. "It turns out that I don't survive this war. I'm killed off. Right before good part starts. I want it to go back to the way it was. Before I had angels to deal with all of the time. The good old days, when it was all baby blood all the time."

It was a lot better than Lucifer, he supposed, though not something he especially hoped for. "What do you want in return?"

She smiled charmingly. "Your head on a stick. Dean's and that skinwalking skank's, too. Call it a consolation prize. What do you say, Sam? Self-sacrifice _is_ the Winchester way, isn't it?" He shook his head, sneering at her. Did she think he was stupid? "I make a deal, I have to follow through," she snapped. "Those are the rules and you know it. Are you really so arrogant? You would put your life before the lives of six billion innocents? Maybe it's all that demon blood pumping through your pipes." Lilith pressed a hand over her heart. "A man after my own heart." When he didn't respond, she turned away. "Going once," she hummed, sidling over to the bed. "Going twice…"

"Fine," Sam snapped.

She whirled around, eyes sparkling as she dropped onto the bed. "Swell. By the way, a contract with me will take way more than a kiss." She patted the bed. "A lot more. Don't worry. The hygienist in here? She wants it bad."

Sam swallowed thickly as he approached, not daring to let his gaze rest on the demon knife. She smirked, running a hand up his leg before a hand snaked up and latched onto the collar of his shirt, tugging him over her. He let her.

And then in a flash, the blade was in his hand. She scowled as she blocked his attack. With ease, she flipped him over, snatching the knife right out of his hand. Sam swore, preparing himself-

The door flew open and Chuck stumbled in with Dean and Alex hot on his heels.

"I am the prophet!" Chuck shouted shakily.

Lilith's lips parted as she jumped away from Sam, snarling. "You've got to be joking." She stormed towards the prophet, blade gleaming wickedly.

Alex grinned at the younger Winchester as the room began to tremble, great white light pouring through the windows, increasing with every step Lilith took. "Oh, this is no joke," Dean said, smirking. "You see, Chuck here's got an archangel on his shoulder. You've got about ten seconds before this room is full of wrath and you're a piece of charcoal."

"Want to try us?" Alex purred.

Lilith sneered, turning a dark last look on Sam. And then smoke poured from her screaming mouth and the hygienist collapsed. Alex bent to check on the vessel, who was clearly dead as the light faded, the trembling stopping.

"I did it?" Chuck breathed.

Despite everything, Sam laughed.

* * *

 _Took away those date things. They were annoying me. XD_

 _Thanks to reviewers (Trench gun and Asia Saunders!) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	27. Phone Calls and First Hunts

The phone call came at two in the morning, waking Alex with ease. Her phone vibrated beneath her pillow, on silet for this very reason. She yawned, pulling it out. She rolled onto her back, holding her phone up to look at it as Dean snored away on the couch and Sam slept soundly on the second bed.

 _Avery_ read the caller ID.

She hung up the call and texted Avery's number, telling her to hold on for a moment. Alex slunk from her bed and then slid from the motel room, not wanting to wake up anyone. Dean stirred on the couch, but didn't wake up.

Alex dialed Avery's number the second she shut the motel door behind her, leaning against it. Avery picked up. "Avery," Alex drawled in her sharp accent, "it is two in the bloody morning."

"Sorry," Avery mused, sounding ridiculously awake and not sorry at all. "You said to call if I ever needed help, and-"

"What's wrong?" the skinwalker demanded, worried. "What happened?! Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine," Avery laughed on the other end. "I just...I was helping Bobby with some research, and it smacked me that I want to learn more than what I know. And not about monsters. I want to know how to fight, and Bobby's not here right now, so…"

"Where's Bobby?" Alex furrowed her brow, not pleased that her friend was entirely alone - again. Avery had had bad luck - ridiculously bad luck - in the past. That luck wouldn't take a break now.

"A job in Ohio," she admitted. "There was a particularly nasty poltergeist. Another hunter called him in. I told him to go, don't be mad." She took a deep breath and let it rush out in a huge sigh. "Alex, I want to _help_. I want to hunt, too."

Alex bit her lip. "Avery," she said softly. "When you start, you don't..you don't stop. You're trapped in this life forever."

"I know," Avery promised. She sounded confident. "I've thought about everything there is to think about, Alex, and I'm sure. I didn't have anything to live for outside of painting, anyways." Her voice was bitter now, her words harsh. Echoes of her ex, Alex guessed, a man who hadn't been worth anything to anyone. "Please?"

"...let me finish the night and get some sleep. I'll tell the Winchesters tomorrow and head out to meet you at Bobby's." Alex bid her friend farewell and tucked her phone into her pocket. She quietly turned back to head inside. The door creaked open and she nudged it shut. With a yawn, she stretched and made her way back over to her temporary bed.

Her sharp hearing caught the change of breathing.

Dean was awake and she _knew_ he'd thought it was Sam who'd up and left again rather than her merely stepping outside.

"Sorry," she said softly into the darkness.

He snorted quietly. "Not your fault."

And then there was silence and Alex closed her eyes to sleep.

* * *

"Let me get this straight," Sam said with a frown on his face as he cradled a mug of coffee between his large hands. He glanced at her with narrowed eyes. "You want us to drop everything and go see Avery?"

"No," she retorted. Alex swiped some coffee for herself - Dean's mug. He was out packing bags in the Impala, so he wouldn't notice until it was half gone. She winked at the amused Sam. "I want to drop everything and go see Avery. You and Winchester number one can keep doing what you're doing. Hunt Lilith, deal with monsters, the likes."

Sam mulled over this for a moment and then set his mug aside. "Do you need a car?"

"Yes," Alex hummed. "I'd do that thing where I wave my thumb in the air, but it's a pain in the arse and the last time I did it, a man groped me and I had to restrain myself from cutting off the man's-"

"What's going on?" Dean questioned, cutting in as he stepped into the room, rubbing his hands on his jeans.

"Alex is ditching us," Sam tattled. Alex glared at him for ratting her out. Dean turned questioning eyes on her, impatient. He wanted to get going - a shape-shifter had been spotted a town over. Alex guessed he had a personal vendetta against shape-shifters.

"What do you mean, you're ditching us?" Dean's gaze remained on her and Alex glared again at Sam.

"Avery wants to be taught weaponry, so I agreed to teach her." Alex shrugged. "You guys do whatever, I'm going to go and teach her. If I'm feeling up to it, maybe i'll stop by and deal with Matt. I know he's started calling you again." Dean scowled at the very thought. Alex had seen the missed calls and knew.

"I'll go get you a car," Sam told her, handing his mug to Dean. Dean set it aside the second he was out the door with a small grimace. Alex frowned a little, but leaned back in the chair she'd taken.

"Are you going to play nice while I'm away?" she teased.

"I'm going to kick some shape-shifter ass and then check to make sure I don't need to kick some skinwalker ass," he said casually, throwing a warning look in her direction.

She was somewhat bothered by the comment, but she placed a hand over her heart and sharpened her teeth, baring them in a grin. "No promises." She dropped it. "Seriously. I went four months without you twats around and didn't hurt anyone. Except for demons. Believe me. I'm not someone to worry about."

He grunted, waving her off. "I know. Check in when you get there. And don't summon Barachiel or even Cas. And if one of them shows up, I want to know."

Alex blinked at him, and then smirked. "What's this? Is Winchester number one worried?"

"I'm worried about _Avery_ ," he stressed. "Bobby's not there and even if she's not human, she still looks it and acts it. And knows no better. And I don't want the angels getting around her, you hear me?"

"Nice to know you're worried about everyone else," Alex grumbled before hauling herself to her feet. She stretched, arching her back, and smirked when she caught Dean staring. Pretending she hadn't, she grabbed her bag and gave him a mock bow. "Goodbye, Mr. Winchester. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

He smirked. "No promises."

She grinned and went to work on making sure she had everything she needed. She nodded to herself when she was done; she'd made sure everything was there and it was, including her blade, which she'd lined up on her wrist. It had faded out of view. Shouldering her bag, she turned towards the door and, with a final wave, left Dean alone in the motel room. Sam was waiting for her with a car running, his lips quirked when she gave an appreciative nod.

"Thanks, Sam," Alex hummed, climbing into the driver's seat and throwing her bag into the passenger seat.

"No problem." When she'd slammed the door shut, he leaned against it. She rolled the window down and gave him an expectant look. "Are you going to come back? Or are you going to head off and play pet somewhere?"

She blinked, looking at him with startled blue eyes. "Why? Did you think I was leaving permanently?"

Sam shrugged, turning his face away after shoving his hair from his face. "Lilith will be after you, too, if only to piss us off. If the angels want you, she'll want you, too."

She raised a brow. "Are you wanting me as bait, Sam Winchester? If that's the case, we'll throw _you_ out into the street, because she'll come running."

Sam rolled his eyes and huffed, "No, I don't want to you as bait. I just mean that it's not good for you to be running around. Be careful."

"Wow. Thanks." He glared and she furrowed her brow. "No, seriously, thank you. That wasn't meant as sarcastic. Winchester number one could care less."

To her surprise, Sam laughed. "No. He does that all the time. He's worried. He just doesn't like to admit it." He grinned at her, dark eyes shining with amusement. "See you around, Alex. Take care of Avery and keep an eye out for angels."

"I will. You make sure Dean doesn't go on a rampage," she replied. She rolled the window back up and he stepped back. She pulled out of the spot, carefully getting herself used to the car. She still found it odd to drive on the right side of the road alongside the wheel being on the left side of the car.

It made no sense to her.

Within moments, she was on a main road. Humming, Alex reached out and turned the radio on, settling back and singing along, her eyes locked on the road.

* * *

"Alex!"

Alex shrieked in surprise when she was tackled in a cheerful hug. Avery's arms were tight around the red-blonde, her dark eyes glowing with mischief. Avery looked healthy, her long black hair swept up into a messy bun. "Bloody hell, Avery," the skinwalker huffed, "I could've snapped at you."

Avery waved her off, not looking the least bit concerned. "Whatever, you wouldn't have. Anyways, anything important happen?"

Alex thought back over their recent hunts. "We met a prophet of the Lord. Chuck. He's pretty cool I guess. Dean scared the poor guy half to death. And there was this little twat of a poltergeist who damn near sheared my hair off when he went to go after my head."

She grimaced. "That's horrible."

"Welcome to the life of a hunter," she replied with a smirk. "Which you'll be joining. Are you sure that you don't want to back out now? No one would blame you if you did. I would encourage it, actually, as would Sam and Dean. And Bobby. And just about every hunter under the sun."

That earned a smile from the other woman. "I'm serious, Alex. I want to learn so that I can help the world, too. And like I said. I've got no one. Remember?"

"You've got me," she disagreed.

"Yes, and you're a hunter." Avery rolled her eyes. "You're not going to talk me out of it, Alex. Come on, what are we learning first?"

"First, I'm taking a nap, because you woke me up at two in the morning and then I was up at six. Second, you're going to make us dinner, because I'm starving. And then third, bed time. Tomorrow morning, I'll start you on a simple gun and some common knowledge."

"Are you kidding me?" Avery threw her hands up in the air like a child. "I've been waiting all day, Alex!"

"Well, if you're that desperate," Alex sighed, cracking a yawn, "you can study some of the books Bobby has. He has a good amount of some you could learn from. I recommend the bible first off. We've been dealing with a lot of angels and demons recently with Lilith trying to bring Lucifer back...well, I guess not. She kinda changed her mind. I don't know. It's a bloody mess." She shrugged, earning a bewildered look from Avery. "I'm going to take my nap now, do what you want, okay?"

Avery huffed and crossed her arms. "Alex, I didn't call you here so you could teach me half-ass. I want to be out there working with Bobby by the time he gets back."

Piercing blue eyes studied her closely for a long moment before Alex sighed heavily. "Okay, okay. Seriously, though. I need a nap. Study the bible while I'm sleeping and we'll do the handgun later. I brought a few weapons that I stole from the trunk of the Impala when Dean wasn't looking. And ammo. I bet Bobby's got practice cans somewhere around this place."

"I drink too much soda," Avery admitted with a grimace. "Believe me when I say there are plenty of cans around."

Alex beamed. "Good. Hunt them down while you're studying the bible. I'll be upstairs in one of the guest rooms. Anything I should know before I start planning how to teach you?"

Avery shook her head and then paused, adding, "I would have said no, but someone stopped by yesterday looking for Bobby. Now that I think about it, he kind of looked similar to you. Do you have a sibling?"

Alex's attention sharpened. "Matthew was here?" she growled. "Was he taller? With blue eyes?"

"Yeah. I was thinking more along the lines of you guys have identical facial structure, but the eyes are pretty telling even if yours are unnaturally blue compared to his. I take it that's the skinwalker bit helping them seem brighter though."

"I'm going to murder him," the skinwalker growled, frustrated. "Change of plans. Go study the bible while I call my brother and yell at him instead of napping, alright? No matter what you hear, I swear I'm not going to tear him to bloody shreds."

"I think that's a lie, but I'm smartly choosing to go study the bible now." Avery gave her a mock salute and then led the way inside. As they went, Alex dialed a familiar number into her phone and lifted it to her ear, clenching her jaw.

She was going to kill her brother.

She wasn't surprised when he picked up on the first ring. "Alex?" he said hopefully.

"Okay, I put up with it for the first few months," she said, pissed. "I put up with you leaving ridiculous amounts of phone calls with Dean and Sam. I put up with a lot of things, Matthew Montgomery, and it stops now. Stay with your bloody family. Do _not_ start showing up at Bobby Singer's and scaring the bloody hell out of Avery, you twat. Do you understand?"

"We need to talk," he said, sounding angry himself. "You need to stop avoiding me, and-"

"I don't give a _damn_ about what I need to do. That's my business if I do or don't do something." She let out a low growl. Avery arched a brow as she went around the kitchen making tea, like she knew Alex would like. "Do it again, Matt, and I will disappear. I will speak to you when I want to speak to you and I do not want to speak to you right now. I love you to death, but-" She made a sound of frustration. "You're annoying the hell out of me!"

"That's what family does," he sighed. "Fine. I'll stop trying to call and find you so long as you promise to call or visit here soon."

"I was already planning on it." She bit her thumb thoughtfully, blue eyes scanning the kitchen for knives she could use to train Avery. She didn't dare let her touch the black blade. Not without knowing just precisely what Avery was. "I'm at Bobby's right now, training my friend Avery to defend herself. In two weeks, maybe, I'll stop by Denver. Depends on what the Winchesters are doing at the time."

"I hate the Winchesters," he admitted.

"I don't. They're quite sexy when they want to be."

" _Alex_."

"They're fine," she huffed. "I trust them. You should, too. Goodbye, Matthew."

"Goodbye, Alexandriana."

She rolled her eyes and hung up.

Quietly, Alex tucked her phone back into her pocket and scowled. Avery chuckled, entirely amused with her. Alex glared at her, sticking her tongue out. "Don't laugh at me, Avery Hunt!" She paused and then smirked. "Your last name will match your profession. Not many people have the ability to say that."

"Not many people have a British accent, but you don't see me going around talking about yours."

Alex shrugged. "It's faded some. Upsets me a little. It's a part of my charm."

Avery snorted. "And just who do you intend to charm into your life right now?"

"No one." Avery laughed at her hastily said statement. "Stop laughing at me, Avery!"

"Nah, I think I'll laugh until my last breath." Avery winked, pressing a finger to her lips. "But I'll sure as hell keep it a secret until then, too."

Alex grinned.

It was nice having someone who didn't remind her of her skinwalker status every twist and turn.

* * *

"So angels are most definitely dicks is what your saying."

"Yes. They're the biggest bloody wankers," Alex said without looking up, studying the newspaper. She had seen a story that had sent alarms off in her radar. But it was so far east and closer to the Winchesters, so she'd assumed they'd gotten to it before she'd even seen something about it. She tapped a finger thoughtfully on the desk. "The one that found you is Castiel. Castiel's...okay, I think? I'm not entirely sure yet. If you meet someone named Barachiel, though, nail him between the legs."

Avery chuckled and then leaned back in the chair she was sitting in. They had seated themselves at Bobby's table, surrounded by various books, newspapers, and more. Bibles and other research materials littered the surface and Alex had hunted down Avery's personal laptop for her when she'd sheepishly admitted to losing it. Amongst the various reading materials, there was empty plates and half-drunk cups of tea and coffee.

"Got it," she mused. She suddenly leaned forward and frowned. "Alex...there's nothing in anything I've read about that term you told me to keep an eye out for...the Soldier?"

"Ah, forget it." Alex reached for some tea. "I didn't expect there to be. It was a hope and no more, I suppose."

"What's so important about it?"

"It's what Barachiel and Castiel and a few other angels have referred to me as. While they all fawn over Dean and his importance," she paused to take a drink of her warm tea, "they demand I do as they order because I'm some sort of Soldier."

"Interesting." Avery rested her chin on her open palm. Her dark eyes studied Alex for a short moment. "Can we get away from research for a while and do fun things? I'm an artist, but writing isn't one of my favorite things to do."

"You should make your own book on the things that creep in the night." Alex heaved herself to her feet. "You could do illustrations of what they really look like so people might stop being so trusty. And I'd like to see when you find something truly rare. Like a god."

"Okay, so that was a question I had." Avery followed her from the dining room through the kitchen, and towards the front door. Alex paused to grab her hand gun. "There's apparently God, but there are also gods?"

"Yeah, it's kind of hard to get your mind around, isn't it?" Alex laughed. "We don't know about God. The angels claim He's there. But we sure as hell know that various Egyptian gods or even Norse gods have made their way around. Loki turned out to be an ass of a trickster though. I want to kill him." She bared her teeth at the memory of the man they'd killed and all of those damn Tuesdays.

"But you don't really know if God is real?" Avery pushed.

"No, we don't. I guess it's a matter of faith. Archangels _do_ exist though, I found out. One guards Chuck, the prophet I told you about." She made her way to an area of Bobby's property that she'd used often. She told Avery to stay where she was and then went to pile cans onto an old car's hood. "Okay. Let's get started with the handgun. We'll move onto blades later. They're less fun, as you cut yourself a lot."

Avery beamed.

* * *

Days went by and Alex enjoyed her time with her friend. Bobby had yet to come home, but a quick call had reassured her he'd done a short job with the Winchesters since he was near them. She'd forgotten how nice it was to be around Avery, how sincere she was. She made sure to work hard and learned a lot in a short amount of time.

She checked in with Sam once and Dean twice. The eldest Winchester had called himself, gruffly demanding to know if she was done playing teacher yet, and she'd mocked him for being concerned, though she'd silently appreciated it. Despite his rather mean words and attitude, she sensed the concern that he shared with Sam and appreciated it.

Two weeks in, Alex decided to find a job for them.

"Simple job," Alex told her as she made sure Avery had dressed herself appropriately. "...well, not so simple, actually. Kind of brutal. The ghost had the man torn into pieces. Luckily, that makes it look like government business." She made a face. "My accent makes us suspicious, so you'll be doing the talking for the most part. Remember what kind of questions you ask?"

"Yes," Avery said confidently.

"Good." She pushed her towards the car out front. After ditching her stolen car a couple dozen miles away, they'd taken to using Avery's. She'd steal a new one (or Matt's) when she ran through Denver. "Let's go."

As she was watching Avery get into the car, Alex felt her phone go off and picked up quickly when she saw the Caller ID. "Hey, Winchester number two. What's up?"

"We just came," Sam said tiredly in way of greeting, "from a funeral."

Alex froze. "Whose?"

"Our half-brother's."

"Excuse me?" Alex sputtered, stunned. Something in her had gone icey at first, but she took in his wording. _Our half-brother's_. Not Dean's. Their brother's. Unbidden, fear had crept into her, memories of cleaning up chunks of human flashing through her memory. Shuddering, Alex leaned against the hood of Avery's car. "Bloody hell…"

"Yeah." His voice sounded almost dead. "We're...we're fine, but…"

"That's not something to be fine over," she said almost gently. "Is Bobby there?"

"No. No, he's not. Just Dean and I." She heard him groan softly, voice muffled. "We had no idea. And he had no idea. Our dad just...didn't bring any of us up. He did normal things with him. Like baseball. He did _baseball_ with this guy while we were waiting for him to come back to a hotel...while we were keeping an eye out for monsters…"

Alex was quiet. They didn't often talk about their father, so to hear them talk about him now…

"Will you be okay?" she said quietly.

"Yeah, I think so."

"What about Winchester number one?"

"He'll be fine, too. He's pissed, but that's it."

"Okay, good." Alex chewed thoughtfully on her lip. "Keep an eye on him. And yourself. You know how you two get."

"Not really, no-"

Alex practically leaped six feet in the air when a scream exploded from the car. She snarled, whirling around in time to see Avery practically fly out of the car. A hand was pressed over her heart, her eyes wide with shock as she stared, heaving for air. Sam demanded answers in her ear as Alex turned her gaze on the car.

She promptly burst into giggles when she saw a startled, slightly scared Castiel sitting in the back seat. "Oh, my God," she laughed. "Avery, seriously?"

"You told me not to go near them," she protested. "He scared the hell out of me!"

Castiel tilted his head in the car and Alex's sharp ears caught him saying, "I apologize. I was not aware that you were so easy to scare."

Alex laughed harder, and then hastily reassured Sam, "It's fine, Sam. Castiel's here. I'm not sure on how he found us, as I have my little hex bag with me, but I don't think he's here to cause any problems."

He looked puzzled as he said from the car, "I do not understand. I don't cause problems...I attempt to fix them."

"Believe me, you cause problems," Avery muttered.

"That's _not_ fine," Sam protested. "We told you to avoid any angels at all."

"Yes, well, Avery needs her own hex bag, to be honest."

"...I'll send you a recipe list. Bobby'll have most of the items."

"Thanks, Sam. Anyways, I'm sorry about your half-brother. I know it's not fun to lose your family. Even if he had what you wanted and more." Her voice softened. "Dean's not holding up well, I take it?"

"Dean's draining a flask of vodka right now, so no. Not really." He snorted, agitated. "Don't worry about it. We'll be fine. Focus on whatever you're doing."

"Got it. We're going on Avery's first job. And then I'm informing Bobby to keep an eye on her so she doesn't sneak off." Alex glanced over her shoulder, jumping when she saw that Castiel had suddenly exited the vehicle and was curiously speaking with a bewildered Avery, both looking confused over one another. "Cas is talking to Avery. I'm going to let you go. I'm making a stop in Denver afterwards, and the we can figure out what to do from there."

"Bye, Alex."

"Bye, Sammy."

"Don't call me-"

Alex hung up before he could keep going on with a rant in favor of planting her hands on her hips as she studied Castiel. "Alright, Cas," she hummed, "what do you want?"

He blinked as he glanced at her, cocking his head for a moment. Finally he turned to face her entirely, "There is a demon-"

"Yes," she agreed, "there tend to be demons everywhere nowadays."

He huffed softly. "There is a demon that has turned its attention on a family. I don't understand why. My superiors do not believe you should be made aware of this turn of events."

" _Really_ ," Alex said curiously. "That's interesting. Thank you for telling me, Cas, I appreciate it." She chewed on her lip quietly for a moment.

"Which family?" Avery asked softly.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I was not told. I should not be telling you this."

"Thank you for doing so anyways." Alex gave him a gentle smile. "We'll keep an ear out."

He opened his mouth and then closed it, deciding against whatever he had been about to say. He went quiet for a few moments before speaking, "Alexandriana," he began. She gave him a look. "Alex," he began again, "the Soldier is meant to follow orders without question, but...I encourage that you always question what you are told and why." Her jaw dropped. "It is not my job to question the word of God." His blue eyes lifted to hers. "But it is a part of humanity to question and wonder."

And then he was gone.

"What was that about?" Avery asked.

"I don't know," Alex said earnestly, frowning.

Castiel usually ranted on and on about the idea of following the orders of those above him, of those who spoke the words of God. To hear him tell her otherwise…

A smile spread over her lips, earning a wary look from Avery. "Well, well, well," she purred softly, "look at you, Cas. Getting some guts, are we?"

"I want to know _why_ ," Avery said softly.

Alex murmured her agreement.

* * *

Alex wrinkled her nose, the smell of rot filling her nose. "Bloody hell," she whimpered under her breath, earning an amused look from Avery. Avery looked professional in slick FBI-level attire, her black hair swept out of her face in a sophisticated bun. "I'm going to be sick!"

Avery agreed with her aloud, looking a little pale herself.

They'd come to help with the ghost problem, but Alex had quickly deduced that they'd arrived a little too late.

A body lay dead on the ground, dead for at least two or three days. Avery was casually looking away, but Alex took one look and told her, "Thais is the ghost. And the reason we're here. I wonder if she and her children did something."

She refused to look at the two smaller bodies strewn haphazardly in the kitchen.

"So it's definitely attached to this house then," Avery murmured, chewing on her lip. "This is where that man was killed, too, right?"

She nodded. "This is where the man was torn to shreds. The ghost ripped apart one of the kids and then must have gotten bored, I suppose." She curled a lip at the thought. "Poor blokes. Didn't deserve this."

Avery uncomfortably fingered the packet of salt Alex had made her bring, biting her lip. "Does this...usually happen?"

"Kids? Sometimes. It's mostly stupid adults, to be honest," Alex replied calmly, inhaling sharply and seeking past the smell of decomposition for any clues. "You should see the idiots that summon these things. Those people are more than twats."

Avery giggled a little. "What do we do?"

"We figure out who the ghost is and then deal with the remains. Usual ghost procedure, my lovely friend." Alex checked her phone when it beeped. "It'll take us a few days, more than likely. I-"

She paused, staring at the message on her phone.

"Alex?" Avery asked hesitantly. "Everything okay?"

"No," she said slowly. "Not...not really."

"Why? What happened?" Avery came to peer over her shoulder, black strands brushing against Alex's cheek. She read over the message as well and then sputtered. "I'm...I'm confused. Does that happen?"

"No." Alex raked a hand through her hair and hastily took her phone and dialed Dean's number. As it rang, she told Avery, "We're going to tell Bobby to come-" Dean picked up halfway through her sentence, but she finished it anyways, "-and take this job. You can either go with him or with me. Either way, I'm going on a trip."

"Guessing you got Sam's text?" Dean grunted into the phone.

"Yes. Please tell me this is a joke." Alex shook her head, eyeing the area when she thought she saw Avery's breath on the air. Goosebumps rose on her arms. "Cas is gone?"

"Gone," he confirmed. "We've just...got this weird guy here. Says his name is Jimmy Novak."

"Huh." Alex chewed on her lip. "We saw Cas earlier...this morning."

"I know. He showed up in my sleep and said he had something to tell me." Dean sounded fairly pissed about it. Alex couldn't blame him. That was frustrating. She understood the feeling. "Listen, we're-"

A shout of her name filled her ears, cutting Dean off, and she snapped her head around in time to see a snarling vicious dead face a moment before something slammed into her like a train. She crashed into a coffee table that splintered beneath her, littering her with dozens of scratches. Alex shouted in pain and surprise, lashing out with her blade the second she could, and watched as the ghost disappeared.

She paused to catch her breath and then shoved herself to her hands and knees. "Salt, Avery, salt!"

The young woman had stopped dead in her tracks, face white from shock. She was tense, unsure of how to react, but at Alex's words, she dug into her pocket, yanking the salt packet free.

The ghost appeared behind the new hunter and Avery lashed out with her salt as Alex had told her to do, biting her lip so hard that it split beneath her cheek. Alex crawled over to her phone and made sure it was on before putting it to her ear, gasping, "Excuse us, Winchester number one. I'll call you later to figure out where I need to go after this is dealt with."

"What the hell are you-"

Alex hung up and shoved the phone into her pocket as she flicked her blade so that it was held properly. The blade gleamed wickedly in the light. Avery reeled back to safety and Alex shrugged her gun free of its holster at her thigh, pushing it into her hands. "Remember what I told you. Iron bullets will scatter it. We just need to get out of here and we'll be okay. We'll leave the ghost for another hunter to deal with."

"Bobby?" she said shakily.

"You and Bobby," she confirmed. "He'll teach you how to salt and burn a corpse."

The ghost must have heard that, because it started screaming bloody murder, suddenly charging from nowhere. Avery shrieked, but Alex didn't hesitate, slashing out with her black blade.

The ghost disintegrated. Alex bundled Avery towards the front of the house. "Out, out, out, out-"

The door slammed shut so hard that it rattled on its hinges. Avery grasped the knob and yanked at the door to try and get it open, but it refused to do so. She looked up, eyes wide and anxious.

Alex reeled back and kicked at the door to see if she could break it down, but was unsuccessful. "Damn," she seethed. She licked her lips in thought and then turned around. She could feel the chill in the air now, feel the icy fingers creeping down her spine. "Okay, so this isn't good."

She understood why working in pairs and groups like she usually did was helpful.

"Alex," Avery murmured desperately.

Right, she _was_ in a pair. And she was the senior hunter, which meant she should know what to do. This was a simple ghost job, just like she'd told Avery. There was always a way around the little buggers…

Shatter a window, she told herself. That's what she usually did when things weren't going her way.

"This way." Alex shot away from the door and Avery kept close. The skinwalker took a piece of the coffee table as they passed, ordering Avery to fire when the ghost lunged from a wall at them. The shot went off and Avery gasped as it vanished into smoke.

Alex snatched the gun from her fingers and shot out the window. Glass shattered and she whirled around, gun at the ready with her knife still in her free hand. " _Out_ ," she ordered, icey eyes darting around as she kept an eye out for anything suspicious.

Avery ignored the slicing pain of glass as she crawled out, hoisting her long legs through the window frame. The moment she was clear, Alex lurched forward-

"Gun!" Avery trilled.

Alex shoved it at her and then yelped as she was dragged back inside, her blade clattering to the ground outside the house. She shrieked, clawing at the floor as she was hauled along it by a pissed off ghost.

Avery fired the gun and Alex shot for the window. A second gunshot went off and then a third before Alex finally dove out the window. She hit the ground harshly, cutting her arm on a stone, but her scarred face twisted into a snarl when she heard the ghost scream in outrage. Avery grabbed her blade and then bolted for the car.

Alex took a deep breath and glanced back, heaving for air. "Violent twat, aren't you?" she muttered, scowling.

The ghost glared at her from the window, its dead eyes furious, and Alex bared her teeth at him before turning to head to the car, limping over to lean on it. Avery had her head resting against the metal frame, shoulders shaking a little. She wasn't crying, Alex was relieved to notice. No tears. Probably just shock.

Even Alex admitted it was a troubling ghost. One that wouldn't go down without a fight.

She shakily pushed her hand into her pocket and retrieved her phone. She studied her contacts for a moment, searching for Bobby's number, and then sent him a quick text, not in the mood to truly speak. She slouched back against the car to catch her breath. "Bloody hell."

"Are all hunts like this?" Avery breathed.

"Most of them, yes. Particularly the ghosts." Alex pushed herself upright. "Let's head back to Bobby's. I need to call Winchester back and see what he wants me to do…"

"What do you want me to do?" Avery asked quietly. "Do I go with Bobby?"

"...yes," Alex decided. "You can tell him what happened and help him figure out what to do and research the ghost and what not. I need to go figure out what to do with...with this Jimmy Novak guy."

Avery nodded. "Then let's go."

Alex climbed in the car.

* * *

 _Just a small original chapter._

 _Thanks to reviewers (johnjohn1970, Asia Saunders, dancing-moonlight99, bookdragonslayer, kbeautimous, and Trojan Prince!) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	28. The Rapture

Alex reluctantly tucked her phone into her pocket after sending Avery a quick message saying that she'd arrived safely at the motel that she'd been told to head to. Avery responded almost immediately that she was heading out with Bobby. Alex grinned and wished her luck before heading to the door.

She'd driven for hours upon hours, pushing herself until she was ready to pass out. But she'd made it, and with that thought in mind, she tested the handle of the door. Locked. Of course. They weren't stupid enough to leave it unlocked.

So Alex knocked and waited impatiently until the door was opened by a suspicious Sam. She pushed past him, sidling into the motel room. "Alright, you bloody morons, I'm here and abandoned Avery with Bobby for this."

"Nice to see you, too," Dean drawled from where he was sitting at a table with Castiel - no, Alex said, nostrils flaring as she stared at Castiel's vessel. Not Cas. Definitely not Cas. Even the way this man, who gawked openly at her, held himself was incredibly different from Castiel.

"You're Alex," the man recognized, staring openly.

Alex raised her chin and glared. "Yes. I am. And you're...who again?"

"This is Jimmy Novak," Sam cut in. "Jimmy, this is Alex Montgomery, as you know."

"Nice to meet you," Jimmy said honestly.

"My pleasure," she muttered and then looked over at Dean. "I leave you alone for a week-"

"We didn't do anything," he protested. "This was all Jimmy and Cas-"

"I didn't do anything either," Jimmy muttered, reaching for another burger. "I honestly don't know anything."

"Do you remember anything about being possessed?" Sam asked, sitting in the chair opposite his brother while Alex came to stand before them. "Anything at all?"

"Yeah," he muttered. "Bits and pieces. I mean, angel inside of you? It's kinda like being chained to a _comet_."

"That doesn't sound like much fun," Dean mused.

"Understatement."

Alex's lips twitched. She crossed her arms. "Winchesters one and two said that Cas wanted to tell them something. Do you remember what that was?"

The Winchesters sharpened their attention - and then both groaned when Jimmy grimaced and said apologetically, "Sorry." He turned those blue eyes that had been Cas' for so long momentarily on Alex, and then back to Dean. "I don't remember."

"What _do_ you know?" Dean said impatiently.

"My name is Jimmy Novak." He raised his chin proudly. "And I'm from Pontiac, Illinois. I've got a family, my wife and daughter...Amelia and Claire. And I want them to know I'm safe and alive, and that I'm sorry for what I did."

"And what did you do?" Alex demanded.

He looked to her. "I left them behind," he said bluntly. She frowned, confused, but didn't say anything. Instead, she gestured for Dean and Sam to step outside with her. They didn't hesitate to join her, Dean pausing only to order Jimmy not to go anywhere.

"What do we do?" Sam demanded the moment they were outside.

"What do you mean?" Alex retorted with a frown. "This poor man has a family. We should be sending him home."

Sam shifted uneasily. "I don't know about that...he's the only lead we have about Cas."

"He doesn't know anything," Dean pointed out, running a hand through his dark hair. He looked distressed and Alex couldn't blame him. "Do you think he's lying?"

"Dean," Sam said tiredly, "maybe he doesn't even know what he knows. I say that we at least get him to Bobby's." Alex shifted uncertainly. "Maybe all he needs is some hypnosis or a psychic. Hell, maybe Cas will just drop back into him."

"I don't know if I want him near Avery," Alex said nervously. "Avery shouldn't be anywhere near demons, and we _know_ they'll come after this man."

"There was angel-on-angel violence back there," Sam murmured, referring to the scene Alex had yet to learn about. She looked to him with sharp blue eyes. "I don't know what's going on, but it's big. And we can't just let the only lead we have just skip out!"

Dean shook his head and Sam glared at him. "What?"

"Oh, bloody hell, time for sibling problems," Alex said under her breath so that they didn't hear her.

"You do remember that our job is to help people, right?" Dean snapped, glaring back at his brother. "Like getting them back to their families?"

"You think I don't want to help him? I'm being realistic. Hell, we're doing him a favor."

"How?"

"Dean," Sam said furiously, "if we want to question the guy, you can damn well bet the demons do, too."

Even Alex couldn't disagree with that. Yet, Dean merely sighed heavily and shook his head, looking bothered. "Fine," he reluctantly said. "You can tell him."

"I'm in agreement with that since I agree with Dean," Alex piped up and then avoided Sam's glare by slipping back inside the motel room. Jimmy Novak looked at her immediately, confused and even a little hopeful.

"So when can I go home?" he said eagerly. "I want to see my family."

Alex pressed her lips together as the Winchesters followed her in. She gestured to Sam, and Jimmy looked to him. His wide blue eyes locked with Sam's gaze as he repeated, "When can I go home?"

"...you can't," Sam finally muttered after staring at him for a long moment.

"...the hell are you talking about?" Jimmy said angrily, rising to his feet with a glare. "I can't go home?!"

"There's a good chance," Dean sighed, running a hand down his face, "that you have a target on your back." When Jimmy snapped out a quick "Who?", he added, "Demons."

"Come on," Jimmy said with a forced laugh. "That's...that's crazy! What could they want with me?"

"Information," Alex said softly. "We know you don't know anything, but they don't, Mr. Novak."

"Please," Jimmy pleaded. "I'm done! I want to be done with demons, angels, all of it! I just…" He slumped his shoulders, looking exhausted. "I just want to go home."

"We understand," Dean began, but Jimmy cut him off.

"I don't think that you do," he snarled, "I've been shot and stabbed and healed. My body has been dragged all over the Earth. By some miracle, I'm out. And I'm done. I've given _enough_ , okay?"

Alex grimaced, feeling absolutely horrible about it as she murmured, "Mr. Novak, look. We understand you want to go home, but until we figure out something...the safest place for you is _here_. With us."

"How long?" he snapped, glaring at all three of them.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Sam said evenly.

Jimmy shook his head and put his head in his hands, looking about ready to cry.

* * *

"I forgot how _bloody pathetic you two are at watching people_ ," Alex seethed as she yanked her hairbrush through her hair. She grimaced at its length; it had gotten too long. "Or, should I say, _you_ are, Winchester number two. You bloody _twat_. Wanker. I don't even know enough insults to cover you, you-"

"Just hurry up," Sam snarled, cutting her off as he shoved clothes into a duffel bag.

Dean snickered from the bathroom, a toothbrush in his mouth. Sam glared over his shoulder as he ducked to wash the toothpaste from his mouth. "Sorry," he snapped, "Is this funny to you?"

"Mr. Big-Bad-Prison-Guard," Dean said to him, "Jimmy McMook gave you the slip? Yeah. Pretty funny. What the _hell_ were you doing anyway?"

Alex grumbled, pissed as Sam explained he had been getting a coke. While she and Dean had been sleeping, leaving Sam to keep an eye on Jimmy, he'd made an escape - because Sam hadn't been where he needed to be. Again.

"Just hurry up," he said with frustration. Sam turned and left the motel room, taking his bag with him. When he was gone, Alex said, "Still sneaking out I see."

"Every night," Dean replied, walking back into the room. "It's pissing me off."

"Sorry," she hummed and shouldered a backpack she'd started using. "Avery suggested putting a tracker in him, but there's no point. He comes back. He'll break eventually and we'll be able to know everything. It just requires patience.'

Putting his things into his duffel, Dean muttered, "I don't like being patient."

"Yes, well, we don't have a choice in this case." Alex shifted her weight. "Ready to go?"

"Yep." Dean grabbed his car keys from his pocket and together, they left the motel room.

* * *

Alex grimaced, uncomfortable with the tense silence going on in the Impala as it raced down the road. Dean had some music playing softly and tapped his finger to the beat, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere as Sam grumpily glared out the passenger window. In the back seat, Alex watched them, texting with Avery, who reported that Bobby had come home.

A sudden rustle, followed by a "Hey, guys," filled Alex's ears, and the skinwalker shrieked, which in turn had Dean yelping and jerking the steering wheel. Alex stiffened as the car swerved, but relaxed when he got it under control.

"Smooth," said the red-haired angel with a hint of amusement in her tone.

"Have you ever tried calling ahead?" Dean snapped.

"I like the element of surprise," she murmured and Alex gave her a nasty look, not entirely fond of the angel. She rather disliked her, to be honest. She'd caused them a lot of unnecessary trouble.

"Well, you look fantastic," Dean commented, and Anna, despite a slight smile that graced herself, said, "Not the most appropriate time, Dean. You let Jimmy Novak get away?"

"Talk to Moose," Alex said bitingly.

"Sam," Anna hummed, looking at the youngest Winchester with an air of indifference. "You seem different."

"Me? I don't know. A haircut, maybe?" Sam snorted, and Anna gave him a very long look that put him on edge.

"So, did Jimmy tell you anything? Did he remember anything at all?" Anna went back on subject, and the rest of them became serious. When Dean demanded to know what was happening, she explained, "It's Cas. He got sent back home." A pause. "Well, more like dragged back."

Alex felt a little ill as she remembered the bewildered angel who understood almost none of their sarcasm and thought of what it must be like to be dragged from a vessel. Dean, however, demanded, "To Heaven? Isn't that a good thing?"

"No," Anna said softly, frowning. "It's very, very bad. Painfully bad. He must have seriously pissed someone off."

"Cas said he had something to tell me, something important," Dean said, flicking his blinker on to pass another car. "He didn't get to tell us and I don't think Jimmy doesn't know what it is either."

"You don't _think_?" Anna's words were sharp, her expression changing to one of darkness. "Whatever it is, it's huge. You need to find out for sure."

"That's why we're going after Jimmy," Sam said with exaggerated patience, jaw working furiously, and Alex got the feeling he didn't care very much for the angel that was in the seat beside her either.

"That's why you shouldn't have let him go in the first place," Anna snapped. "He's probably dead already."

Alex grimaced and looked out the window, her finger tapping impatiently on her leg.

When they stopped to gas up the Impala, Anna was gone and Alex climbed out to stand beside Dean as he worked the pump. Sam stepped aside to make a suspicious looking phone call, keeping just far enough that Alex couldn't overhear. Shifting her weight so that she leaned against the car, she said, "I can't be mad."

"What do you mean?" he huffed, glancing up at her. "There's always something that you can be pissy about."

"I _mean_ ," she snapped, growling at him, "that I can't be mad about Jimmy leaving while he could. He just wanted to go and find his family...mind you, we warned him it was a bad idea. The bloody idiot should have stayed where we told him to, but...he wanted his family. You can't hate him for wanting that."

Dean pressed his lips together, saying nothing, but Alex got the feeling that he agreed. She glanced over her shoulder and then jumped when Dean spoke. "Y'know, I originally made a deal with a crossroads demon because I didn't think I could live without my little brother." Alex lifted her gaze to study him, listening. "And you know, I can't honestly say if it happened and the crossroads demon would take me, that I'd do it again."

Alex shook her head, sighing softly. "Dean, you would. I've seen you two, and you would." She smiled broadly at him, and he arched a brow at her for it. "You're brothers. You'd rip the world apart for one another."

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "We already have."

* * *

Alex felt somewhat excited over the fact that she was allowed to act on her own for this. Her giddiness must have been clear, because Dean said quickly, "Don't get too happy, mutt, this isn't going to be a normal thing."

Alex bared her canine teeth in a grin and shook her fur out, eyeing the dirt before her with a bit of distaste before dropping to coat herself in a layer of grime. She shook herself afterwards and then looked to Sam for approval. He grimaced and dropped down to help make her a little roughed up but not too much. She swiped her tongue over her nose and spat out a little bit of dust before woofing.

"You should be good," Sam reported, "just remember what to do if something happens."

She gave a curt nod. Send up a signal of some sorts. Most likely burst out of the house and do what dogs did best - bark.

She'd prefer to have summoned Castiel, but that wasn't going to happen now.

"Go for it, Alex," Dean told her.

Alex flicked her tail and then bounded across the street. She paused in the middle of it to watch as Sam and Dean climbed into the Impala, speaking in low voices, and moved the car further down the road, out of sight.

When they were gone, Alex sucked in a large breath and then lowered her head, hunching her shoulders. She'd practiced enough. She knew exactly what to do to make herself look like a stray dog. Jimmy might recognize her, but they'd watched his wife and daughter through the windows for enough time to know that while his wife was reluctant and untrusting, their daughter would help her get in.

Alex climbed the steps up to the front door of the Novak household and then gave a little canine-like smirk before yelping, slouching onto the wooden porch with a soft groan. She watched intently. When no one came in, she barked again, this time making herself loud. She barked a second time, and then wagged her tail once when she heard footsteps.

The skinwalker dropped her head onto her paws and looked innocently up, making herself as small as possible as the door opened a small face peeked out. Claire Novak's eyes widened with alarm at the sight of the dog before her. "Mom!" she shouted, stepping closer. "Look!"

 _Bingo._

Amelia Novak came into view a moment later and Alex let her tail thump once, twice, on the wooden porch as Jimmy came behind her. He took one look at Alex, and then hardened his gaze, grabbing Amelia's wrist. "Don't," he protested, but that seemed to only harden her resolve as she knelt to pat Alex's head.

"Poor thing," Amelia murmured, and Alex flared her nostrils, catching the scent of sulphur that suddenly wafted around her. The skinwalker froze, fighting back the growl in her throat as she tried to determine if the sulphur came from. She didn't feel like it was Amelia...not with that truly kind look in her eyes. "Why don't we bring it in? Get it something to eat."

"Amelia, no," Jimmy protested again, but Amelia ignored him, only saying quietly that he didn't get to make decisions like that. At least not now. Jimmy looked hurt at that, but fell quiet as they "coaxed" Alex inside.

At least she'd gotten what she and the Winchesters had been aiming for.

Within no time, as Amelia entered the house's dining room with a platter of sandwiches in one hand and a bowl of something in the other, Alex had made herself comfortable on the floor, her dirty fur not seeming to bother Amelia or Claire in the slightest as Claire sat beside her, standing to sit at the table only when her mother called for her.

"Okay," Amelia murmured, setting the bowl before Alex. Alex tried to not wrinkle her nose. _What the bloody hell is that supposed to even be?_

"We have turkey and roast beef. It better be okay," she said, looking up at Jimmy as she sat down on his left, Claire across from her on his right. "It's all we have."

"It's fine," Jimmy reassured, "more than fine."

There was an awkward moment of silence in which Alex quietly used a white paw to shove the bowl away before lowering her head to rest on the ground, listening and watching ever so intently. She heard rustling, and then Claire asked with surprise, "Daddy, aren't you going to say grace?"

Jimmy said almost a second later, "No, honey." He swallowed thickly, voice suddenly hoarse, thick with emotion. "I don't think I am."

"Why are you crying?" she urged, sounding so concerned that Alex felt bad for her.

"Because I'm happy," was Jimmy's answer.

Guilt spiraled through Alex's heart as she heard the doorbell ring. Amelia quietly excused herself, and Alex lifted her head, sniffing the air as she listened to Amelia and a man named Roger quietly speak to one another in a voice that suggested they were close. After a moment, Jimmy went after them and Alex snorted when Claire grabbed a sandwich and quietly pushed it beneath the table for her.

Alex took it daintily. _Much better,_ she thought, praising the girl.

"Can I talk to you?" Roger asked.

"I'll go get you a beer," Amelia said to get herself out of the situation.

Alex flicked her ear, nibbling at the sandwich with a huff. Claire giggled, looking at her with warm dark eyes. "So," Roger said quietly, "really, what happened?"

"Honestly?" Jimmy said. "Worst year of my life and you wouldn't believe a word of it." He heaved a heavy sigh. "But it's all okay now. I swear."

Alex zoned out, paying them no mind as she licked her lips and stood, shaking her fur out and yelping as she smacked her head on the bottom of the dining room table. She swore silently, hating that her canine form was so large. She slunk out from beneath the table, wondering just where the hell the Winchesters were and if they were ever going to make an appearance.

It wasn't until Amelia gave a short scream that Alex realized something was wrong. She barked, darting out from beneath the table. Claire jolted in alarm at Amelia screamed, "What are you doing?! JImmy, stop!"

"He's a demon!" Jimmy shouted as Alex burst into the room and found the visitor collapsed on the floor. Roger twitched and Alex found her lips curling, the smell of sulphur nearly unbearable.

"Stop it," Amelia sobbed, but Jimmy shoved her from the room, pushing them out and towards what looked like a pantry at the back of the house. Hesitating, Alex shot after them, worried about how rough Jimmy was being as he muttered to himself. He pushed them into the closet and hunted down a bag of salt that resided within it.

"Roger was your best friend," Amelia said, shaken, as Jimmy poured salt out across the doorway.

Alex paced anxiously, watching as Jimmy retorted, "Roger was a demon, damn it. Don't cross this line!"

This wasn't the right way to go around this. If Jimmy had _listened_ -

"Jimmy, you thought you were better, but you are so _sick_ ," Amelia breathed, and then shoved at him. "You stay the hell away from us!"

"Look," Jimmy said with exaggerated patience, looking over his shoulder as Alex snarled, fur bristling uneasily. "I'm am not crazy. This is all very, very real." He turned to Claire, reaching for her. "Claire, sweetie-"

"No!" Amelia shrieked as Claire pressed herself nervously against the nearest shelf. "Leave her alone, I said! Run, Claire!" She practically tackled Jimmy and Claire bolted past them. Alex spun on her heel and raced after the blonde child, ears pinned anxiously. She snarled when a shadow streaked out of nowhere, tackling Claire to the ground. Within seconds, Roger had spun Claire around, pressing a knife to the girl's throat. Alex bared her teeth and he grinned.

"Nice try, mutt," Roger drawled and Alex rumbled viciously. The term didn't have the same kind of light amusement as it did when Dean said it; it was truly meant as an insult now. "Too late."

"Damn it!" Jimmy seethed behind her, appearing in the entry to the dining room, and Roger grinned as Amelia joined him.

"Roger?" Amelia squeaked, stunned.

Alex barked, raising her pitch to a thunderous volume, continuing nonstop. Lifting his voice as Claire breathed, "Daddy?", Jimmy demanded, "Just let her go."

"Oh, shut _up_ ," Roger shouted at Alex, who looked him in the eye and continued barking. Claire sobbed and Jimmy moved to try and help, but a woman appeared. She snatched Jimmy up by the back of his collar and threw him to the ground, dropping to her knees over him and snapping her fist over his face.

Amelia screamed, throwing herself at the woman to get Jimmy out of her grasp, and Alex cut off when she heard the front door thrown open. Without hesitation, seeing something flash behind Roger, she lunged for the woman - his wife, if the screaming leaving Amelia's lips was anything to go by.

Alex's jaws closed over her shoulder, shredding at flesh and muscle, filling her mouth with acidic blood. Roger's wife screamed, turning on Alex with teeth bared, but then froze, choking. Alex's head snapped up as she spat blood from her mouth and stared.

Dean was pushing Claire behind him, reaching for Amelia, but he, too, paused to stare in both shock and horror.

Sam was exorcising the demon in a way that made Alex want to crawl away from him as fast as he could, the way they'd seen him do it not too long ago. Her body trembled with shock as Sam shouted, "Go! Get them out of here!"

Alex locked her jaws on the back of Jimmy's collar and yanked him upright, tweaking a muscle in her neck. Jimmy lurched to his feet, staggering, and then darted after his wife and daughter, eyes full of concern for them.

Alex whirled around in the doorway to watch and make sure the Winchesters got out - though she had no doubt in her mind that they would - and openly gaped as Roger's wife smirked and purred, "Aw, can't get it up...can you?"

"No," Dean snarled, lunging forward with the demon knife flashing in the light, "but I can."

Before the blade was shoved into her body, however, the woman's head flew back and there was a cloud of black smoke that filled the air. Dean grabbed Sam by the shoulder and shoved him. Alex darted out alongside them as they bolted for the Impala.

"Thank God," Jimmy breathed as the trio approached, face pale. Dean demanded to know where Amelia was, who whispered that she was there.

"Let's go," Dean said darkly and then eyed Alex, grimacing. She grimaced, too, trying to imagine how she'd fit. "Hope you guys like the taste of dog fur."

* * *

"You were right," Jimmy said quietly, standing beside the Impala. He looked in at his wife and daughter, who were sitting quietly in the back of the Impala, covered in red and white fur that made Alex's lips curve into a grin as she adjusted the hem of her shirt. She fixed her leather jacket, shaking out the collar.

"I'm sorry that we were," she said gently.

"I'm telling you," Jimmy continued as if she hadn't spoken, his blue eyes full of distress. "I don't know anything."

"I don't think they're inclined to believe you," Dean said drily, referring to the demons. His green eyes flickered with a bit of sadness for the man before him, not something Alex expected to catch sight of.

"And even if they did," Sam continued, shaking his head, "you're a vessel. They're still gonna wanna know what makes you tick."

"Which means vivisection - if they're feeling generous," Dean finished.

"Look," Alex said, clearing her throat and pushing her hair from her face. "What we're trying to say, and I know I won't tell you again, is that you're putting your family in danger. I recommend coming with us."

"How long?" Jimmy rasped. When Sam opened his mouth to speak, Jimmy cut him off. "And don't give me that 'cross that bridge when we get to it' crap."

"Don't you understand?" Sam said, almost snappishly. "The demons will never stop. You can never be with your family. So you either get as far away from them as possible, or you put a bullet in your head." Alex growled a warning, and she and Dean both glared at him for his harsh wording, though Dean looked a bit more inclined to agree than she did. "That's how you keep them safe, but there's no getting out and there's no going home."

"Well," Dean drawled, "don't sugarcoat it, Sammy."

"I'm just telling him the truth," Sam retorted. "Someone has to."

Jimmy took a deep breath, nodding curtly. As he turned to the Impala, opening the door closest to Amelia, Alex listened intently, her blue eyes watching them with care. She wrinkled her nose, concerned.

"So I pretty much owe you the biggest apology ever," Amelia said quietly. Jimmy denied it, but she insisted, "Yes, I do. I'm so sorry, Jimmy. And I will never, ever forgive myself for letting you walk out that door."

"Well, you did what any rational person would have done," Jimmy replied. He reached out and patted Claire's blonde hair, the girl passed out in the seat beside her mother. "I mean, hell. I thought I was crazy half the time."

"So demons, hm?" Amelia looked over at the trio that were watching in silence. Alex narrowed her eyes suspiciously, uncertain if she was right on what was going through her mind. "Can we...can we even go home? What are we gonna do?"

"These boys and Alex," Jimmy said, inclining his head in their direction, "will get you a car. Don't ask me how. You're going to take Claire to Carl and Sally's as fast as you can."

 _Unless Carl and Sally are demons,_ Alex thought to herself, curling a lip. The smell of sulphur wouldn't leave her nose, but she thought it possible that it had gotten in when she'd bit the demon. She spat again. Even now, the taste wouldn't leave her lips.

"Wait. What about you?" Jimmy gave Amelia a long look, and Alex felt guilt spiral through her. "No, I'm not going anywhere without you-"

Alex turned her face away, not wanting to see anymore. She licked her lips and spit on the ground again. Dean glanced her way, then turned his gaze back on the couple. "Alright?"

"No," Alex grumbled. "I taste demon in my mouth, and it's _disgusting_."

He smirked a little. Sam rolled his eyes and then went to go and hunt down a car for the two, and only then did Dean turn to look at his brother's back, quietly studying him. "Winchester," Alex warned, "please don't cause trouble."

"I didn't cause it," he retorted. "Sam did."

* * *

Alex rested her cheek on the window she'd cracked despite Dean complaining that it was raining and he didn't want the rain in the car. Her nose had finally cleared, and it felt nice to smell something other than demon. In the front seat, she felt the tense silence between the brothers, even as Jimmy slept in the back seat beside her.

Finally, Dean couldn't keep the silence any longer. "What the hell happened, Sam?" he snarled, and Sam looked startled. Alex lifted her gaze to watch them intently, her fingers tapping on her leg. "You practically fainted trying to gank a demon."

"I didn't faint," Sam huffed, "I just got a little dizzy-"

"You can call it whatever you want." Dean looked pissed, and Alex grimaced. Crabby and pissed off Dean was not someone she enjoyed having around. "Point is, Sam, you used to be strong enough to kill Alastair. Now you can't even kill a stunt-demon number three?" Sam gave him an exasperated look. "What's going on with your mojo? I mean, it's yo-yoing all over the place. I'm not trying to pick a fight here, okay?" Alex snorted, earning a glare in the mirror at her. "You're scaring me, man."

"I'm scaring myself," Sam admitted quietly, and Alex gave him a sympathetic glance before looking down when her phone went off. She blinked at the unknown number and answered.

"Alex Montgomery," she said into it, pressing her lips together. "Who's this?"

She frowned when a familiar voice said shakily, "It's Amelia."

"Oh. Do you want to speak with Jimmy?"

"Yes. If you don't mind."

Alex reached over and nudged Jimmy. He woke up almost immediately, looking panicked. Alex smiled reassuringly and handed her phone to him, explaining, "Your wife called."

"Amelia?" Jimmy said sleepily into the phone, yawning softly. A second later, however, his eyes widened and his face went ghostly white, panic racing through his expression. Alex exchanged a look with Sam, who'd turned to watch.

"Oh, my god," Jimmy breathed, and Alex listened intently as Amelia drawled in a voice that was nowhere near similar to what Alex expected from her that Jimmy had a choice: do as they said, or his daughter would be killed. A low growl thundered in her throat as Jimmy hung up, shoving it back at her as if it was poisoned.

"What's going on?" Dean questioned.

Jimmy pressed his face into his hands, groaning, and Alex reached out to rub his shoulder, saying curtly, "Amelia." She ordered him to go to an address.

Without questioning, Dean floored it.

* * *

Swinging out of the Impala, Dean said firmly, "Alright, they're expecting you to come alone." Jimmy, half out of the car, looked to him with a confused expression when he continued, "That's exactly what you're gonna do."

"We'll work our way through the catwalks," Sam said reassuringly, and Alex nodded hastily when Jimmy looked to her, as if expecting that she was truthful and they weren't.

"We'll be behind you, okay?" she promised. "We won't let anything happen to Claire. You need to stay calm. Stall them. Let us do what we have to do."

"Stay calm? This is my family," Jimmy breathed.

"Listen to me," Dean cut in before Jimmy could get too worked up. "This will work. You understand? Nobody's gonna get hurt."

"Yeah, whatever." Jimmy scrubbed a hand down his face, suddenly looking exhausted. Alex felt for the poor guy as he pleaded, "Can I have a minute?" They all nodded, watching as Jimmy wandered away, and Alex thought her heart might break for him when she heard him shouting to Castiel, knowing that the angel wouldn't answer.

"There's no way they're expecting him to come alone," Sam breathed.

"It's a trap," Alex agreed, shaking her head.

"Yeah," Dean muttered, but then gave them a fierce look. "But that's why I have a plan."

"Here we go." Alex jerked her chin towards Jimmy when she saw him enter the warehouse. "So what the bloody hell is your plan, Winchester?"

Within the warehouse that the demonic Amelia had chosen to use, Jimmy stared at his daughter with a horrified look. Claire was unconscious, tied to a chair. Amelia stood beside her, caressing her face almost thoughtfully as she purred, "Hi, honey. You're home."

"Listen," he began, pleading almost. "I'm begging you here. Do whatever you want with me, but my wife and daughter...they're not part of this!"

"Oh, they're a big part of this," the demon hummed, smirking maliciously. Jimmy was heartbroken at the sight of the look on her face, a look that Amelia would have never worn. "And by the way, you really should have come alone."

"I am alone," he said evenly, trying not to wonder just what the Winchesters and Alex were planning on doing.

"Oh, you're such a liar. Like I didn't think you'd bring Heckle, Jeckle, and their pet dog, hm?"

The doors were opened and Jimmy spun on his heel to see the people he'd been trying to not think of being dragged in by a series of demons. Dean looked calm, though his green eyes burned with anger. Sam was close to Alex, frowning as she cradled her wrist to her chest, blood dripping from her fingers. He muttered to her and she gave a small nod.

"Nice plan," Alex snarled, " _Dean_."

"Yeah, well," he snapped back, "nobody bats a thousand."

Ignoring the bickering between them, Amelia jerked her chin towards a demon. "Got the knife?" He held it up, grinning, and she smiled in delight as she continued speaking. "You know what's funny?"

"You wearing a soccer mom?" Dean said bitterly, earning a mutter from his brother.

"I was actually bummed to get this detail...picking up an empty vessel." She curled a lip. "Sort of like a milk run, you know? Now look who ended up, right here in my lap!"

"Yeah, well," Sam huffed, "you got us. Okay? Let these people go."

"Oh, Sam, Sam, _Sam_ ," the demon said softly, smirking. "It's easy to act chivalrous when your Wonder Girl powers aren't working. Now for the punch line." She grinned, eyes lighting up. "Everybody dies."

Without hesitation, she spun around and fired a gun. Alex snarled at the scent of blood, head snapping up as Jimmy fell to his knees, clutching the wound in his gut. Amelia laughed and told one of the demons, "Waste Little Orphan Annie."

Dean's eyes blazed with rage as Amelia slipped out and a demon didn't hesitate to step towards Claire. The girl was still tied to the chair, her head slouched forward in unconsciousness. THe demon paused to weigh a pipe in his hand, and then grinned maliciously, swinging it as hard as he could at her head.

Suddenly, Alex giggled, and Sam's gaze darted to her face in shock and bewilderment.

The screaming of a demon filled his ears, and his head snapped back towards Claire. Her eyes were wide, and she was on her feet, one hand gripping the pipe effortlessly and the other pressed to the demon's forehead. The demon's eyes glowed a brilliant blue before it fell, still.

Dean didn't hesitate to turn on a demon, and Sam lunged for another. Alex, still holding her wrist close to her chest, aware that it would need to be properly set before it healed wrong, yanked her blade free and hissed in agony as she put it in her good hand. She lunged for the demon that was wrestling with Dean, shoving it into the demon's back without a hint of remorse. Dean shoved the body aside and then, panting, looked over for a second at Jimmy and Claire - no, Castiel.

He immediately was distracted however, by Alex's strangled gasp. His gaze followed hers and he, too, stared in horror at the sight of Sam bent over a demon, mouth at the wound he'd made on her neck. Castiel had stopped to look, too. Sam pulled back after a moment, turning with blood slicked over his mouth and cheeks, dripping onto his hands and chest, and stabbed the demon with the knife he'd stolen back.

Something barreled into Alex out of nowhere and she shrieked in surprise, lashing out with her blade instinctively. "No!" Sam shouted, throwing a hand up as Amelia latched onto her throat. "Don't hurt her!"

Dean lunged to catch Amelia when he'd exorcised the demon, black smoke sinking into the floor, and the semi-conscious woman groaned softly, struggling to get to her feet properly. Alex rubbed her sore throat with a grimace. She'd have bruises. Despite only having had a grip for a few seconds, the demon's strength had almost crushed her windpipe.

Castiel looked back towards Jimmy now, as if deciding it was safe enough. The man was still on the ground, blood pooling beneath him. His hand trembled as it pushed against the injury. Without Jimmy saying anything aloud, Castiel answered, "Of course we keep our promises. Of course you have our gratitude. You served us well. Your work is done. It's time to go home now. Your real home." The angel knelt before him, still in his daughter's body. "You'll rest forever in the fields of the Lord. Rest now, Jimmy."

"No," the man gasped loudly in protest. "Claire-"

"She's with me now. She's chosen. It's in her blood, as it was in yours."

"Please," he breathed. "Please. Castiel, just take me. Take me, please."

Alex, from where she was standing and letting Dean examine her - what they assumed to be - broken wrist, snapped her head up and stared, looking anxious as they spoke with one another. Dean looked up at her. "What are they talking about?"

She shook her head.

This wasn't a conversation to share with others.

"I want to make sure you understand," Castiel said warningly, "You won't die or age. If this last year was painful for you, picture a hundred - a thousand more like it."

"It doesn't matter," Jimmy whispered. "You take me. Just take _me_."

"As you wish." Castiel reached out with Claire's hand and touched Jimmy's face, light glowing brightly from her eyes and then his. After a moment, Claire collapsed to her hands and knees. Amelia lunged for her daughter as Castiel stood, pausing to regain his bearings. He looked down at the nearly sobbing woman, met her eyes, and then approached the trio of hunters. He gave Sam an outright look of disgust as Sam wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Cas," Dean said when Castiel turned to leave, "what were you going to tell me?"

"I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean," Cas said, pausing. "I serve Heaven." Alex felt the blood drain from her face because this wasn't right. Something bad had happened, truly bad. "I don't serve man, and I certainly don't serve you."

And then he was gone, and Dean was left with Alex, Sam, the sobbing females nearby, and a pool of blood left by a man who no longer lived.

* * *

"Winchester, I'm not sure about this," Alex muttered a night later. They'd driven almost non stop until they'd reached Bobby's, and Dean had taken advantage of a moment in which Sam had gone inside to use the restroom to tell her the plan. He was leaning against the table nearby, a beer in hand, watching in silence as Avery expertly tended to her friend's wrist. She hissed in pain when Avery shoved at something, forcing it into place.

It had begun to heal, but they'd been forced to rebreak a bone or two to make sure it was set right, and it hurt like _hell_.

"Look," Dean said with exaggerated patience, a little aggravated. "If you don't like it then stay up here."

"I will," she retorted. " _Bloody hell, Avery-_ "

"All done." Avery stopped wrapping up her wrist and flashed her a quick smile, eyes glowing with amusement. "See?"

Alex glared at the brace, grimacing. It would have to do. At least her bones would be back together within the next few days rather than weeks… "Just...don't be too harsh. I really don't think this is how this should be handled, but so long as you are careful…"

"I'm not three, Alex, it'll be fine." Dean offered her his beer and shouted for Bobby and Sam, and she took it and began to chug.

"It'll be alright," Avery murmured, stretching.

Beneath them, a door slammed shut, metallic hinges creaking as a lock slammed home.

* * *

 _Finally updated! Sorry about the wait, I'm slow when it comes to writing this. Almost done with season four, though. ;) Just two left before the apocalypse begins!_

 _Thanks to reviewers (_ _sodasgirl1 and cassiefusion!) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	29. When the Levee Breaks

Alex snatched the glass of whiskey that Bobby had specifically poured for Dean, her blue eyes wavering uncertainly as Dean and Bobby both glared at her. Nearby, Avery was curled up on a couch, watching the dynamics of the group with curiosity. She - and the rest of them - flinched when Sam's voice filled the air, shouting, "Stop! Stop!"

"How long is this gonna go on?" Dean said roughly, worried and pissed off with his brother. He combed a hand through his hair, shaking his head as he set his whiskey bottle aside.

"Here, let me look it up in my demon-detox manual," Bobby said sarcastically, glaring furiously at Dean. "Oh, wait! No one ever wrote one. No telling how long it'll take. Hell, Sam might not even live through it."

"Bobby," Avery protested gently, but he waved her off as his phone rang. He answered it, and Alex grimaced at the sound of the voice on the other end. A moment later, he muttered, "Suck dirt and die, Rufus. Call me again, I'll kill you."

"What's up with Rufus?" Dean demanded at the same time that Alex questioned curiously, "Who's Rufus?"

"He knows," was all Bobby said, and Alex looked to Dean for an explanation like she usually did when she was confused with the American hunters, but he didn't even attempt to give her one. He only grumbled under his breath, hands clenched tightly into fists.

When Rufus called again, Bobby huffed and stormed from the room.

Avery's dark eyes darted back and forth between the pair of quiet hunters across the room from her and said, "No matter what happens, I'll stay here and keep an eye on Sam if you want me to."

"Thanks, but we aren't gonna be leaving," Dean muttered, and Alex kicked him in the shin for being rude. It earned her a furious look that she returned, lifting her chin and getting in his face.

"Do not," she snarled, baring her teeth, "be rude to us because you're annoyed, do you hear me, you bloody fool?"

Dean scowled down at her and then pulled back to look at Bobby when he finally came back, rubbing his temples. "Bobby?" she asked quietly. "What's wrong?"

"The news," he muttered back to her, "it ain't good."

"That's what Rufus called about? 'Key West sees ten species go extinct'," Dean said crankily. It earned him a snarl from Alex, who told him to stop being a wanker before she gave him a reason.

"Fifteen-man fishing crew. Stricken blind, cause unknown." Alex sucked in a breath. Avery sat up straighter with a horrified look, and he continued. "In New York, a teacher goes postal, locks the door, and then kills exactly sixty-six kids. All in a single day." Even Dean paled a little at that information. "There's no doubt about it. I looked them up. They're all seals. They're all breaking, fast."

"How many are left?" Dean demanded, beginning to pace.

"Who knows?" Alex breathed. "There can't be too many left though. Dean, where the bloody hell did the angels go?"

"You tell me," he muttered.

"I'm wondering," Bobby said slowly. "The apocalypse being nigh and all...is now really the right time to be having this little domestic drama of ours?"

Dean's eyes flickered with irritation. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Bobby said slowly, his face firm. "I don't like this any more than you do, Dean, but Sam can kill demons. He's got a shot at stopping Armageddon."

Dean bristled. "So what? Sacrifice my brother's life and soul for the greater good? Is that what you're saying? Times are bad, so let's use Sam as a nuclear warhead?"

"Dean, that's not what he's saying," Alex said with exasperation. Dean's attitude was frustrating her. Avery looked somewhat upset by the suggestion and without another word, Dean stormed from the room, taking his beer with him.

Bobby pressed his lips together, looking bothered by Dean's response, and Alex ran a hand tiredly through her hair.

Stupid family drama.

* * *

Dean tilted his head back and chugged down half of his bottle of alcohol, not entirely sure on how much he'd had at this point. All he knew was that he was pissed, that he wanted nothing more than to be blackout drunk, and that Castiel wasn't answering him after nearly two and a half hours of hoarse shouting-

"What do you want?"

The gruff demand was followed by Dean's curse and his attempt at a casual turn that turned into a stumble. Looking irritably at the angel, Dean told Castiel, "You can start with what the hell happened in Illinois."

"What do you mean?" he muttered, furrowing his brow as if confused.

"Cut the crap," Dean snarled, glowering at him. "You were gonna tell me something, Cas."

Castiel looked away. "It was nothing of import."

"You got ass-reamed in Heaven, but it wasn't of import?" Dean snapped mockingly, pissed off all over again.

"Dean," Castiel sighed, "I can't. I'm sorry. Get to the real reason you called me. It's about Sam, isn't it?"

The Winchester looked ready to spit on him in his drunken state. He was momentarily distracted by the sound of the door opening and closing, and Castiel looked over suspiciously when Alex stepped out of the house, her phone to her ear and her lips pressed unhappily together. She waved in greeting, but Dean was a little stunned when she turned away, clearly caring less.

"Can he do it?" Dean said finally. "Kill Lilith and stop the apocalypse?"

"Possibly," Castiel admitted with a grunt. "But, as you know, he'd have to take certain steps." His blue eyes followed Alex, a flash of pain flickering through his eyes, and Dean frowned, but ignored that in favor of pushing for more.

"Crank up the hell-blood regimen," he mused.

"Consuming the amount of blood it would take to kill Lilith would change Sam. Permanently." Castiel's eyes returned to Dean, grim. "You would find yourself hunting him within moments of Lilith's defeat. There's no reason this would have to come to pass, Dean. We believe it's you, not your brother. The only question for us is whether you're willing to accept it. Stand up and accept your role." He lifted his chin, as if proud of what he was saying - as if he wasn't sentencing Dean to something worse than death. "You're the one who will stop it."

"If I do this," Dean muttered, "Sammy doesn't have to?"

"If it gives you comfort to see it that way."

"Well aren't you a bloody wanker these days," Alex called as she stormed over, her eyes glistening with irritation and fear that had them both pausing to study her. Her hands were fluttering anxiously around her, her lips pressed unhappily together. She opened her mouth to question Castiel about something.

"Fine," Dean said before she could speak. "Fine, I'm in."

"Dean!" Alex barked, but Castiel interrupted her, his blue eyes flashing as he demanded, "You give yourself over wholly to the service of God and his angels?" Dean nodded. "Say it."

Glaring, Dean snapped, "I give myself over wholly to serve God and you pricks."

"You swear to follow his will and his word as swiftly and obediently as you did your own father's?"

Alex saw Dean grimace at the thought but he inclined his head. "I swear. Now what?"

Castiel turned his gaze on Alex, who lifted her chin, jaw working. "Now," he said slowly, "you wait. You and the Soldier will be called upon what the time comes."

"I didn't agree to anything, Castiel," Alex said icily. But the angel had disappeared, as if not noticing what she'd said. She swore under her breath and then shoved a hand through her hair, turning to face Dean. "I'm leaving."

"What? Why?" Dean scowled at her. "We threw Sam into his own hellhole. You have to stay and suffer through it with the rest of us."

Alex shook her head. "I didn't agree with it, even if I don't agree with what Sam was doing. Dean, you can hear his screaming. Imagine what that's like with my hearing." She tapped her head. "It's not...okay. And I just got a call." Her lips trembled nervously. "My brother. His neighbor contacted me with Matt's phone. They've disappeared. All of them. My nieces, Ryss, Matt. _All of them_."

Dean stared at her, startled. That wasn't what he'd expected to hear at all. "You don't have _any_ idea where they went?"

She shook her head. "There's nothing. I'm going to see if Avery will come with me to look for them. I'd ask you, but...I won't ask you to leave Sammy behind." She smiled faintly. He furrowed his brow, a little stunned that she'd even consider asking him to help in such a serious thing. She awkwardly patted his arm. "With what's going on, I don't know if I'll come back. Not on purpose, but because of what's happened. Y'know. Normal stuff."

"You're not leaving tonight," he said seriously.

"No. I need some sleep. I'm heading out tomorrow morning, after some breakfast." Her lips quirked, a smug look entering her gaze as she teased, "Why, are you going to _miss_ a skinwalker, Winchester?"

He scoffed, and despite his drunken attitude, he smirked a little. "Who said anything about missing? I'll be celebrating."

She heard the laughter in his voice, even though it was weak.

And she rolled her eyes before leading the way back inside.

* * *

"I could do without the shouting," Avery said softly, grimacing as she sipped at a mug of coffee. Knowing she didn't have much of anything to do with what had happened, Dean shot her a grimace instead of a glare. She had a packed backpack beside her. She'd agreed to go with Alex to Denver.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Bobby grumbled as he added some alcohol to his coffee, "but you willingly signed up to be the angels' bitch?" Unlike Avery's received grimace, Bobby earned himself a nasty glare. "I'm sorry. Do you prefer 'sucker'? After everything you said, now you trust them?"

"Give me a little credit, Bobby. I've never trusted them less. I mean, they come on like shady politicians from planet Vulcan."

"I don't understand," Avery said quietly. "Then why did you do it?"

"What other option do I have? It's either trust the angels or let Sammy trust a demon." Dean combed a hand through his cropped hair and then sighed heavily. Alex came into the room, a heavy bag resting easily on her shoulder. His green eyes darted her way, taking in her calm look.

She wasn't dressed to impress; she was in what she'd once told the Winchesters was her "hunting armor". A pair of jeans that hugged every curve - not something he couldn't appreciate, naturally - and a simple T-shirt with her leather jacket thrown on. Her blade was in her hand, recently sharpened.

Damn he needed to figure out his thoughts and solidify them into what they needed to be rather than what he was coming up with in his head.

"So," she drawled, her accent sharp. Dean arched a brow. Nervous then… That was new. "Avery and I are heading out in the next hour or so. Is there anything that needs to be done from my end before or while I'm gone?"

"Just let us know if you see or hear from Cas," Dean decided.

"Or anything about Lilith or weird demon activities," Bobby added.

Avery shifted and took a sip of her coffee as she said quietly, "Like the silence?"

They all stilled. "...that's a little too much nothing," Bobby said after a moment of listening for familiar screaming. Alex dumped her bag and surged for the basement. Dean and Bobby were hot on her heels, Avery pausing at the top of the basement stairs.

By the time Dean joined Alex at the door, she'd all ready thrown the window in the metal door open. Her skin prickled at the feeling the panic room gave off. She moved so he could peer inside, finding Sam seizing on the floor, grunting.

"What if he's faking?" Alex asked quietly when Dean frowned.

"Do you think he would?" Bobby demanded. He looked between the two, more than aware that they weren't entirely sure they could trust the youngest Winchester.

"I think he'd do anything," Dean admitted.

Alex leaned in to look through the window again, her blue eyes flickering and then flashing wide with alarm. "Bloody _hell_!" she shrieked, lunging for the locks. "That's not faking!"

Dean took one glimpse within the room, finding his brother being whipped around walls by some invisible force, and swore, darting in the second it was open. "Grab his feet," Dean ordered, managing to get a grip on Sam's wrist, having to hop a little tor each despite the fact that he was tall enough to look down on most people. Alex snagged his feet as instructed while Bobby went for the other arm, the three of them dragging him from the wall. It was hard, with him thrashing. Even Alex broke a sweat within minutes, the solidly muscled man hard to pin to the cot in the center of the panic room.

When they'd pinned him, all three straining, Bobby shouted over the commotion, "We're gonna have to tie him down."

"For his own safety," Alex agreed, sorrowful about it. She felt horrible, but knew better than to think that it wouldn't be a smart idea.

"Dean?" Bobby checked, not daring to do it without his permission. "You with us? Dean!" he added snappishly when the eldest Winchester didn't respond right away. "Before he has another fit."

"Yeah," Dean said hoarsely. Alex raced out of the panic room to shout for Avery, so that she could help them. "Let's just get it over with."

Alex came back in and a few minutes later. Avery was there, leather cuffs that Alex carried regularly in her duffel in hand. She hesitated, looking nervously to Alex, and Alex ordered her to watch Sam's feet so that she could begin the process of tying him down.

When they were done, they were all slicked with sweat. Alex used her supernatural strength to try each cuff and then nodded. They four ascended after locking the room to the panic room behind them, and when they reached Bobby's living room, Avery slumped on the couch. Dean went straight for the alcohol, not a surprise to Alex, who made grabbing motions towards the bottle of whiskey. Bobby merely shook his head, stopping to study them.

"Are we absolutely sure we're doing the right thing, Dean?" he said, watching Dean's face closely.

"Bobby, you saw what was happening to him down there," Dean said lowly. He looked over his shoulder. "The demon blood is killing him."

"No," Bobby said firmly. "I'm sorry, but I can't bite my tongue any longer. We're killing him." Alex opened her mouth to protest, but he continued as if she hadn't. "Keeping him locked up down there… This cold-turkey thing isn't working. If he doesn't get what he needs soon, Sam's not gonna last all that much longer."

"I'm not giving him demon blood," Dean said stubbornly.

"Dean," Alex said, clearing her throat. "I'm with you that it isn't good, but maybe we could wean him off instead?"

"No," he snapped. "I won't do it. Weren't you leaving?"

"He could die," she retorted, glaring now.

Dean exploded. "Then at least he dies human!" he shouted, silencing all of them. He took a deep breath and then continued with a fiercely determined voice. "I would die for him in a _second_ , but I won't let him do this to himself. I can't. I guess I found the line. I won't let my brother turn into a monster."

"He won't," Avery said suddenly, her eyes flickering between all of them.

"Yes," Dean said, "he will."

"Well," Alex said irritably, "we're not staying around to watch him die. Avery, get your things. We need to go hunt for Matt. If you two need us," she said to Bobby, "you have my number. I want updates on Winchester number two, too. If it's not too much to ask."

"I'll send them to you," Bobby vowed.

She smiled faintly and then turned to Avery, who'd shouldered her bag. "Ready?"

"Ready," Avery confirmed. "Thank you for allowing me to stay, Bobby."

His expression softened just a fraction. "Don't be a stranger, Avery. Come around if you want, you hear me?"

She beamed. "I will."

"You, too, Alex," he said gruffly as the skinwalker sidled over and gave him an uncharacteristic hug. "Be careful. Don't know what the hell is running around there nowadays."

"We'll be fine," she reassured as she shouldered her own bag. She paused to look at Dean. "Bye, Winchester." Just to piss him off before she left, she prodded him sharply in the arm with a finger and then strode for the door. He glared at her, though it didn't seem too angry.

As Avery let the door clatter shut behind them, Bobby muttered, "Been awhile since I've had so much company."

Dean tried to not feel too guilty about that.

* * *

They'd been on the road for approximately seven and a half hours when Avery's phone rang. Alex turned down the music she'd been blasting, her hand returning to the wheel as Avery, sleepy, answered.

"Hello?" she yawned. A moment later, she was far more awake. She sat up with a gasp, her dark eyes flashing. "What?!"

"What, Avery?" Alex demanded, glancing over. "What's wrong?"

"Hold on, let me put you on speaker," Avery told whoever had called her. She did just that, hitting a button, and then sat back, her eyes wide with horror. "Alright, Dean, go ahead."

"Sam got out," was his blunt answer.

"He _what_?!" Alex demanded, horrified. "How?! He was locked down in chains and everything! Did you let him loose?"

"I don't know!" Dean snarled in response, furious with her accusations. "Bobby caught him as he was leaving, and Sam knocked him out! He took a car. Hot wired it."

"Did he have a demon's help?" she suggested, running a hand down her face as she turned her blinker on to pass another car. "Ruby could have helped him get out."

"She wouldn't have been able to touch the door," Avery said softly. "Remember? Salt."

"Right," Alex murmured. She took a deep breath and then said, "Well, I can't do anything from here. Neither can Avery. We can keep an eye out for him, though I don't think he'll come this way."

"At this point, I don't give a damn. As long as he's with Ruby. 'Cause killing her's the next big thing on my to-do list."

Alex rolled her eyes. "So bloody dramatic. You're Castiel's bitch, remember? You're on call."

"I am on call," Dean agreed almost nonchalantly. "In my car, on my way to _slaughter_ that bitch."

"Dean," Avery whined, "you can't just go and-"

"Watch me," he told them. He hung up.

Alex snarled irritably at him, and tossed Avery's phone back at her. "Blood bastard," she snapped.

Avery gave her a grin, chuckling under her breath. "You like him," she told her.

The skinwalker only sent her half-hearted growl.

* * *

"The police found my car." Dean paused, half-way through reconnecting the battery in his Impala. He wanted to strangle his brother. How _dare_ he lay his hands on Baby? But the eldest Winchester looked up at Bobby, who looked troubled. "It was abandoned in an alley in Jamestown, North Dakota."

Dean knew immediately what Sam was up to. "He's switching it up." Dean straightened, swiping his hands quickly on his jeans. "Any other cars stolen in Jamestown?"

'Two," Bobby replied, frowning. "One of them was a 1999 Honda Civic. It's blue, nice and anonymous."

"What was the other one?"

"A white oh-five Escalade with custom rims. A neon sign to where he is."

"He'd never take that," Dean mused, turning back to the Impala. He went back to work, saying as he did so, "Which is why he took it." Bobby blinked in surprise. "I know that kid, Bobby. I'll head in that direction. Are you going to stay here and ride the police databases? We need to find him. Fast."

"It'd be easier if you just asked Avery and Alex to come back. We could head in more directions," Bobby grumbled.

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's not as if they're not coming back, Bobby. Give them some time. I'm not gonna call Alex back when her family's disappeared into thin air."

"Well aren't you a hero," the older hunter drawled, shaking his head. He watched Dean slam the hood of his car down and nod to himself, as if confirming that he was done. "You can't seriously think that brother of hers is alive." He'd known the Montgomery family, although not as closely as he might once have. And Matthew Montgomery was anything but prepared for the hunting of supernatural creatures.

"I don't know," Dean said evenly, running a hand through his cropped hair. "He might be. I do think that demons got their claws on them, though. Which means we might have to worry about Alex sooner rather than later."

"She's not going to turn around and bite you in the ass like everything else in life," Bobby argued. He glared at Dean for the suggestion. "And Avery's there. Despite the fact that she's got some meekness in her, she can throw a mean punch. Believe me."

"...did you let her punch you?" Dean said with a questioning look.

"No," Bobby said just a bit too hastily. Dean stared at him until finally, he admitted, "Yes. I was teaching her self defense. I had a bruise for two weeks."

Despite their situation, Dean burst out laughing and reached for his car keys.

* * *

A thoughtful Avery climbed out of Alex's vehicle, her dark eyes scanning the empty house. Alex was sharp, her blue eyes full of quiet rage as she inhaled sharply, catching sight of the car that still sat in the driveway. "Demons," Avery mused, catching a slight whiff of sulphur.

"Demons," Alex confirmed, her voice more of a growl.

Avery touched the gun with specially made bullets Bobby had given her, making sure it rested in its holster beneath her jacket at her hip. She loved the older man. He was a father who'd taken the place of one she'd never had. She swallowed thickly and fingered the safety, careful not to turn it off.

In silence, the women slid through the front door, which - much to Alex's fury - was unlocked.

They stepped into the front foyer, and Alex's nostrils flared as sulphur was practically shoved down their throats.

A woman stood before them, her eyes practically glowing as she smiled. Alex felt her face pale when her eyes rolled into the back of her head, entirely white rather than black.

"Hello, Soldier," Lilith murmured.

There was light, and then only darkness.

* * *

 _I'm so excited for season four to end! Next chapter will be the last of that one, and after that...some fun things._

 _No reviewers, but thanks to those who favorited and followed!_


	30. Lucifer Rising

The scene played over and over again in his head.

 _"You walk out that door, don't you ever come back!"_

He could see his brother stopping at his nasty words after they'd beat each other to hell and back - after Sam had nearly _strangled_ him.

Dean could most certainly see Sam turn away and leave him in the debris of their fight.

"Dean!"

A voice cut through the blurriness, and Dean allowed himself to finally focus on Bobby, turning his face away from the window in favor of looking at the older hunter. Bobby gave him an exasperated look. "You listen to a single word I said?"

"Yeah," Dean said sharply. "I heard you. I'm not calling him."

Bobby scowled and threatened, "Don't make me get my gun, boy."

"We are damn near kickoff for Armageddon," Dean said quietly, "and Alex has disappeared off of the face of the earth along with Avery. Don't you think we've got bigger fish at the moment? Have you heard from either of them yet?"

"No. Like I told you this morning. Don't change the subject. I know you're pissed. I'm not making apologies for what he's done, but he's your-"

"Blood?" Dean interrupted. He turned to face Bobby entirely, folding his arms. His green eyes flickered with agitation. He tried to keep his temper under control, not wanting to upset the last of his allies around too much. He was quickly losing the battle, though.

"He's your brother." Bobby searched his gaze. "And he's drowning."

Dean let loose a huge breath of air. "I tried to help him. I did. Look what happened."

"Try again," Bobby urged, but Dean shook his head and told him it was too late. "There's no such thing as 'too late'."

"No, damn it!" Dean finally exploded. "No. I gotta face the facts. Sam never wanted to be in our family, Bobby. He hated this life growing up. He still does. He ran away to Stanford the first chance he go. Now it's like deja vu." He rubbed the bridge of his nose and dropped to sit in a nearby chair, bumping his hip on the kitchen table. "I'm sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him. He can do what he wants." Bobby looked a little heartbroken at that and Dean said patiently as if it was okay, "Bobby, he's gone. Sam's gone. I'm not even sure if he's still my brother...if he ever _was_."

Bobby threw his hands up and snarled, "You stupid son of a bitch!" He suddenly swept the books and papers they'd piled onto the table onto the ground with a huge clatter. Dean rose to his feet again as Bobby got in his face. "I'm so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess," he bit out. "Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good? Bake you a goddamn apple pie? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family!" Dean tried to protest but Bobby cut him off. "You sound like a whiny brat." A pause. "No, you know what? You sound like your dad. Let me tell you something about him: he was a coward."

Dean scowled furiously. "My dad was a lot of things, Bobby, but a coward?"

"He'd rather push Sam away than reach out to him. That don't strike me as brave. You are a better man than John ever was. Do us both a favor. Don't be him." Dean glared viciously, furious with him, but Bobby merely shook his head and turned away. "I'm going to try and see what I can do to find Avery and Alex. Something's wrong. I can feel it. You can come help when you decide to stop-"

Between one moment and the next, Bobby's kitchen was replaced with a large room. Dean blinked, confused. He looked around the spotless white-walled room with its marble table and angel statues.

He wasn't surprised when Castiel was behind him, watching him with a guarded expression. "Hello, Dean," he said calmly. "It's almost time."

* * *

When Alex cracked her eyes open, pain shot through her head, and she groaned softly. Her body shuddered in aching soreness, but she didn't _think_ there was any particular cause for the soreness…

"Avery?" she gasped, shooting upright. She flinched when agonizing pain raced through her wrists and up her arms. A cry escaped her as she stared at the silver manacles that had trapped her on the stone floor of a warehouse, her eyes widening with shock. "Avery!"

There was no response. Nothing from the woman who barely knew how to use a gun-

No, Alex told herself. Avery could use a gun just fine. She could protect herself.

Just not against _Lilith._

Alex searched her pockets, inclining her head to herself when she found her phone. That would work. If she could get one text message out, maybe she could be tracked...but no, she realized a moment later, hissing furiously under her breath. She shoved it back into her pocket. _Bloody hell...dies way too fast!_

Maybe they'd track her anyways?

She could hope and pray.

Alex sat back, taking a deep breath. Her icy eyes looked this way and that. Studying. She locked her attention on a brick and nodded. Even if she broke her hand, that would be useful…

She crawled on her hands and knees towards it, trying as hard as she could-

A pair of feet appeared in her sight and she stilled. A low growl spilled from her throat as she looked up to find a black-eyed demon smirking down at her from the face of a large bald man. "Nice try, puppy," he crooned.

Alex snarled when he brought a boot up to her face. Blinded by pain, she stumbled back. She tenderly made sure her nose wasn't broken and then spat blood, disgusted. The insult didn't have the same kind of pleasant twang it had when Dean spat it in her face. "What did you do with Avery?"

The demon sidled closer and she didn't bother to fight him when he yanked her phone from her pocket. It was useless anyways. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, Alex. Miss Avery's as safe as one can be."

"Liar," she bit out.

"Yeah, you caught me. She's gone." He grinned, not bothering to explain further and Alex's heart throbbed with pain. Dead, then. She wasn't sure why she was surprised. Demons didn't have anything against murder.

Ignoring his grin, she snapped, "Why am I not dead then?"

"Lilith's orders," he purred. "You see, the highest ranking of our kind has a thing for turning the Soldier against the side they've chosen." He clicked his tongue, tilting her chin with his thumb and forefinger after leaning over and gripping it. "Too bad for you. The angels ought to pick better warriors, hm?"

Alex spat at him, watching a glob of saliva strike his face. He calmly wiped it away, grinning. "In any case," he continued as if she hadn't, "you're here to do _our_ bidding now. And if you don't…" His eyes lit up with cruel excitement and he snapped his fingers.

Alex's heart skipped a beat when the door to the warehouse flew open and a furiously shouting man was thrown inside to his knees. A well-aimed kick between the shoulder blades slammed him to the ground. "Matt," she moaned, horrified.

She should have known that they'd figure out how to use someone against her. She wasn't surprised. They'd been born to suffer, it seemed.

Blue eyes, shades darker than her own, shot to her. "Alex?"

"Well," the demon purred, "we'll have to say goodbye to Mr. Montgomery, just like we did his wife and children, now won't we?"

Alex wanted to scream. They'd _killed_ them. _All of them._

And where had been the angels during all of this? Where was Barachiel, who'd claimed to be a guardian angel of sorts, or Castiel, who declared that she was a Soldier and should know where she stood? She took a shaken breath to try and calm her thoughts. Ryss and the girls were dead, maybe even Ryss' family. She'd ask Dean or Bobby to help her look into it when she got out.

If she got out.

Because if she did...she was damn sure her brother wouldn't be there with her, and she wasn't entirely sure of how she'd survive if she lost him, too.

* * *

Dean scowled as he paced the room, poking and prodding at everything he dared to touch. His mind raced, concern for his stupid brother and Bobby racing through him. Curiosity on where Alex had gone and maybe even a little fear for her was there, too. Because before he'd vanished into thin air, Castiel had asked him if he knew where she was. When Dean had shaken his head, he could have sworn a bit of concern had flashed through the angel's eyes.

He looked suspiciously at a beer bottle on a grand table at the center of the fancy room, not trusting it.

He trusted it - and the situation even less - when a familiar voice nearly purred, "Hello, Dean." His head snapped around, looking at Zachariah with a hateful look. He glared as he continued to speak, musing, "You're looking fit."

'What is this?" Dean demanded. "Where the hell am I?"

"Call it a green room." Zachariah didn't look concerned as he waved off Dean's snarly tone. "We're closing in on the grand finale. we want to keep you safe before showtime." He gestured to the hamburgers that had appeared beside the bear bottles and Dean snorted. "Try one. Your favorite. Strang from that seaside shack in Delaware."

"I'm not hungry," he said blandly.

Zachariah tried to convince him to take some women, as if it was something he was likely to do in this kind of situation, but Dean rejected each offer with a stony expression. "I want to know what's going on."

"Let us worry about that," Zachariah said, trying to turn him down. "We want you...focused, relaxed."

"Then start with telling me what's going on," Dean retorted, "because I'm about to be pissed and leave. Chuckles."

Dean got a small twinge satisfaction from the way Zachariah's smile became strained. "All the seals have fallen," he finally informed Dean. "Except one."

He lifted a brow delicately. "That's an impressive score. That's right up there with the Washington Generals." Zachariah rolled his eyes at the sarcasm.

"You think sarcasm is appropriate, do you? Considering that you started all of this?" Zechariah gave a smirk at the guilty look that crossed over Dean's otherwise emotionless features. "It'll be different. The final seal, anyways."

"Why?" Dean demanded.

"Lilith has to break it. She's the only one who can. Tomorrow night at midnight," the angel informed him cautiously.

"Where?"

"We're working on it."

"Well, work harder."

"We'll do our job," Zachariah snapped, losing patience. "Just make sure you do yours."

"Yeah, and just what is that exactly?" Dean questioned. "If I'm supposed to be the one that stops her, then how? With the demon knife? I don't think even Alex's blade could stop her." The mention of Alex brought fury onto Zachariah's face. Dean caught on immediately. They knew something about where the skinwalker had vanished off to. The mention of her weapon made him just look plain pissed off and cranky.

"All in good time," Zachariah gritted out.

"Isn't now a good time?" Dean challenged the angel with a scowl. Zachariah told him to have faith, and Dean demanded, "What, in you? Give me a reason why I should. You can even start by telling me what you know about where Alex has run off to."

In a flash, Zachariah was getting into Dean's face, a dark look on his face. "The whereabouts of the Soldier are none of your concern Dean. You swore your obedience - so obey. Shut up, sit down, and enjoy a burger."

Just as quickly, he disappeared, and Dean found himself alone in that large empty room, a little bit more than concerned about what had happened to the skinwalker.

Almost more concerned than he was about Sam.

Because at least he knew where Sam was (sort of) and what he was doing.

Alex...she'd simply up and disappeared.

* * *

"What happened?" Alex demanded the second the demons left her alone with her brother, thinking it would "convince" her of something she didn't even understand. "How did they get you? Didn't you have traps and things like I told you to keep up?"

Matt let loose a large breath, and she could read the grief that was shoved deep beneath his determination to make sure the demons didn't know what hurt him most. "Of course I had them," he snapped, glaring at her. His breathing was ragged. "They caught Tess," his voice cracked with a hint of pain, "when she went to play at a park with some friends. We told her to stay home. She didn't listen and managed to sneak out right beneath our noses. It all went downhill after that. We weren't going to just...leave her. We told Hally to stay inside, but one of the girls must have messed up a line of salt because they got past our defenses and dragged her out." Pain filtered into his voice. "They killed her. Right in front of us. I watched them slit her throat. She was just a little girl, Alex."

Alex's breath hitched a little, tears gathering in the usually fierce woman's blue eyes. "Are Tess and Ryss-"

"Dead. Both of them." He gave a bitter little laugh. "I told you. I _told you_ that we had demons hanging around, that I needed you to come and take a look, but no, you were busy playing around with the Winchesters and their problems."

Alex leveled him a sharp look, still forcing tears back. He had every right to be angry with her but he had no reason to accuse her of doing nothing. "We were trying to stop the apocalypse, Matthew," she growled. "Of course, that's not very important. Right?" He glared and she returned it. After a moment, she shoved her anger away. It wouldn't help in their current situation. She took a deep breath and then said in a softer voice. "Look. Right now, we have other things to worry about."

"You think?" he snapped. Matt scowled and then shifted, tugging experimentally at the rope that he'd been tied up with-

Alex stared at his bindings and tugged at her own chains, grunting when the smell of her own burning flesh filled the air. She flinched. "Can you get any closer? I can cut through the ropes." She showed him how her blade was still there. She wasn't entirely sure how she'd managed to keep it in her grasp the entire time she was there, but…

She wasn't about to complain.

"I can _try_ …" For attached to his ropes were more chains. "You could toss me the knife."

"No. This doesn't leave my hands." She loved him, trusted him. But for all she knew, he could be possessed. And while she would fight to hell and back for him, would kill herself before she killed him...there was no way in hell she was handing over her black blade.

So, under her instruction, Matt edged carefully over, offering his bound hands. Alex reached, resting her blade against the rope. She sawed at it until it broke loose and when it did, she grinned triumphantly and Matt pulled his hands from what remained. He rubbed his wrists. "Now," she rumbled, watching as he began to undo the rope at his feet. "We need to figure out how to get these cuffs off of me, because one, it hurts, and two, it bloody _hurts_."

Matt snorted, crawling over on his hands and knees to investigate as she put her knife away. He took her wrist and, despite his anger towards her and wat had happened, his touch was gentle. He examined the manacle at her wrist and after a long moment, shook his head. "I don't know how they got it on there," he told her, "but it's not coming off."

Alex scowled. "Then we'll have to break it off." It wasn't as if she didn't have scars all ready. It would merely add to her hellish appearance.

"Can you not just...shift?"

The skinwalker thought it over and drew up the energy to do so - only for it to be scattered by the silver. "Not while these manacles are on." She eyed them thoughtfully. "Can you hold them off? They're just big enough that if we make sure they're not touching at all and hold it for a few moments, I might be able to."

"Right." Alex held her wrists out, stilled, and watched intently as Matt carefully held each away from her skin, not letting them touch even the slightest. Within seconds, the lacerations and burns began to slowly knit themselves back together. They quickly scabbed over and Alex went to work. Within moments, she was in her canine form, free and shaking her fur out. She didn't bother to change back, instead abandoning her clothes in favor of trotting towards the doors. Her nostrils flared at the near constant scent of sulphur.

She wrinkled her nose.

Disgusting.

"Are we good?" Matt breathed.

She tilted her head, listening. And then she poked her nose out between the doors, looking for any sign of an attack. She inclined her head and then shouldered her way through. Matt ducked down and squeezed out after her.

Alex scanned her surroundings quickly even as she breathed in fresh air. Freedom, she realized, would be difficult.

The warehouse was in the middle of nowhere and the heavy scent of sulphur told her that while they saw no demons, they were everywhere. Likely in a smoky form, sneaking along the ground so that she wouldn't catch sight of them.

So that they could shove themselves down an unsuspecting victim's throat.

Alex licked her lips and started forward, ducking her heavy head and slinking along. He kept close, smart. She was proud of her brother, even if she was agitated with him for no reason. He knew what to do, even with not hunting as she did.

She moved to take a step forward.

And stopped as Matt suddenly straightened, clicking his tongue in disappointment. Her head snapped around.

Just as she'd worried, his eyes turned black and a malicious grin spread over his face. "No concern at all for your brother, Alex? Didn't even bother to check?"

Alex growled and planted her feet, teeth bared.

 _Bloody hell._

* * *

Gritting his teeth, Dean tried to summon one of the angels by voice alone one final time. He needed answers. And to see his brother. Because _damn it_ , there had to be a way to talk his brother into a sensible course of action. After a long moment of waiting, he looked at one of the angel statues that lined one of many mantel pieces and placed a fingertip on it.

He tipped it, watching as it shattered with a loud sound. A smile tweaked the corners of his mouth.

"You asked to see me?"

Dean spun around, feeling a little guilty. While it made him feel bad to break stuff, it had worked. "Yeah. listen. I need something."

Castiel's light eyes watched him closely, entirely serious as he said, "Anything you wish."

"I need to be taken to Sam," Dean said, watching him just as closely. He narrowed his eyes a little when Castiel merely questioned why. "What's it to you? Just make it snappy. I need to talk to him."

"I...don't think that's wise," Castiel said cautiously. A muscle in his jaw flexed when Dean let out an exaggerated breath, furious. He snarled that he didn't ask for the angel's opinion and Castiel retorted, "Have you forgotten what happened the last time you met?"

Dean wanted to deck him for the reminder. "That's the whole point, Cas. Listen. I will do whatever you mooks want, okay? I just need to tie up this one thing. Five minutes with Sam that's all I need."

"No."

"Then what about Alex?" he tried. When Castiel stiffened, his gaze darting anywhere but Dean, it slammed it home. Something was definitely wrong in Alex's playing field. "Cas, where's Alex?"

"You can go wherever you want," Castiel countered.

"Super. I want to go see Sam." Dean watched Castiel closely, daring him to say no.

"Except there," Castiel denied and Dean fought the urge to grab the bowl of iced beer and throw it at the angel's head. "And...you can't go see Alex, either."

"Why not?" Dean demanded. "What's happened to Alex that you bastards aren't telling me?"

"It's none of your concern," Castiel said, voice sounding cold. He watched as Dean paced wordlessly, fuming. "The Soldier's situation is being dealt with-"

"What _situation,_ Cas?!" Dean bellowed, beyond angry that they wouldn't tell him anything. He'd agreed to work for them, they wouldn't let him go and speak with his own brother...why wouldn't they tell him anything in regards to the skinwalker at the very least? He needed _someone_ to find Sam, and outside of Bobby - who was trying but apparently failing - Alex was the next best choice. Excluding the dickhead in front of him.

"It's none of your concern," the angel repeated.

"You know what?" Dean said with a bitter laugh. "Screw this. I"m out of here." He whirled to stalk towards the door-

"Through what door?" Castiel challenged and then vanished with only the sound of fluttering feathers to signal he'd been there.

Dean gawked at the blank wall, the door gone and replaced by white paint. "Damn it," he swore, whirling to face the empty room with a sound akin to a growl in his throat.

He hated the angels. More than anything.

Within the hour, Dean had tried desperately to break through the wall the door had been placed in. His most recent attempt consisted of taking a heavy piece of table he'd broken off through sheer willpower and slammed it through, willing to tear the wall down if it meant getting out to Sam. But when he paused to take a break, the wall repaired itself, and he shouted a curse.

"Son of a bitch," he hissed, throwing the table leg away.

"Quit hurling such disgusting words, would you?" Dean wanted to take that table leg - now reattached to its original owner - and slam it a couple of times into Zachariah's head as he turned to face him with a scowl. "It's unbecoming," Zachariah practically crooned.

"Let me out," Dean said darkly, his green eyes full of hatred for the angel.

"Like I told you," he replied, running his fingers thoughtfully over the shiny table. "It's too dangerous out there. There are demons on the prowl, you know."

Dean barked out a laugh. "We've gotten our asses kicked all year and now you care? You're lying. I want to see my brother."

"That's ill-advised," was the response he got and it only served to drive the eldest Winchester into a silent rage. He merely glared at Zachariah as the angel pressed his lips together before admitting, "Lilith's going to break the final seal." Dean clenched his jaw. "The train's left the station."

"But we can stop…" Dean trailed off, looking for a long moment at him. "You don't want it to stop, do you?" he realized, anger replaced with a horror that sent his mind racing.

Now Zachariah laughed, grinning. "Nope. Never did. The end is nigh." He sidled around the table, approaching Dean with a smirk. Dean wanted to punch it off of his stupid mouth, but didn't move. "The apocalypse is coming to a theater near you, kiddo."

"What was all that crap about saving seals then?" Dean challenged.

"Our grunts on the ground...we couldn't just tell them the whole truth." He grimaced, as if the idea was horrendous. "We'd have a full-scale rebellion on our hands. I mean, think about it! Would we _really_ let sixty-five seals get broken unless senior management wanted it that way? I mean, we even had the Soldier for a while. And it's the Soldier's _job_ to stop things like that."

If he'd recovered any kind of faith in God...it was gone now. Dean was stunned. Angels had certainly made quite the appearance in the world after all of his time spent hunting, only for them to turn on them like this. And Sam had been _excited_ to meet them. "But _why_?"

"Why not?" Zachariah shrugged, amused with the question. "The apocalypse? Poor name, bad marketing. It puts people off. We like our chances. When our side wins - and we will - it's paradise on Earth. What's not to like about that?"

Dean managed to get out past the strange lump in his throat, "What about all of the people? What happens to those innocents during your little pissing contest?"

He pretended to look guilty about that. "Well...you can't make an omelet without cracking a few eggs, can you? Look, it happens. This isn't the first time we've done this, you know." Dean's gaze shifted from Zachariah to a rather nice looking mantelpiece that would have done nicely for bashing in his head, but the angel grinned, chuckling and clicking his tongue. "Uh, no. Probably shouldn't try to bash in my skull, Dean. Wouldn't end up too pleasant for you."

"What about Sam?" Keep him distracted, Dean told himself. Keep him distracted while he figured out what to do. "He won't go quietly. He'll stop Lilith. And Alex, too."

The angel grimaced again, the look twisting his face horribly. "Ah, Alex. The Soldier's a little bit...preoccupied with family problems right now. Handing her over was a bit of a stretch on the lower levels' parts, but they'll get over it. As for Sam...he has a part to play. A very, _very_ important part. He'll need a little nudging in the right direction, but don't worry. I'll make sure he plays it."

Dean's hands clenched into fists as he snarled, "What are you going to do to Sam?"

"Sam, Sam, Sam," Zachariah mocked. "Forget about him, would you? You have larger concerns. Why do you think I'm confiding in you? You're vital, Dean, even now. We weren't lying about what destiny has planned for you. We just...omitted a few details. Nothing's changed; you're still chosen. You _will_ stop it. Just not Lilith or the apocalypse. That's all."

Dean waited patiently, knowing that he was enjoying his little soap box as the rest of the world descended into a literal time of hell.

"You're going to stop Lucifer, Dean! You're our own little Russel Crowe! And when it's over...when you've won...your rewards will be _unimaginable_. Peace, happiness...women." Zachariah chuckled and Dean curled a lip in his disgust with him. "Trust me. One day, you and I will look back on this and laugh."

"Tell me something," Dean said, not tearing his eyes from Zachariah, silently pleading that Castiel - the only angel who, despite being an idiot recently, had ever come through for him - would show up and make things right. "Where's God in all of this?"

"God?" Zechariah grinned and waved his fingers in farewell. "God has left the building."

He vanished, and Dean drew a hand slowly down his face, ready to slam his head against a wall a couple of times to see if it would help him get his way.

* * *

"Change!"

Alex bit back a strangled screaming cry at the pain that raced down her spine when the demon ground his foot into it. Matt - no, the demon possessing her brother, was nearby, watching with thoughtful black eyes. She refused to allow herself to submit to the demons, refused to allow them to have their way.

She would get out of this, she told herself, flinching when a blade parted the fur on her shoulder, caressing her skin. It burned and she flinched away. Silver, of course. Why wasn't she surprised?

"You know," the demon drawled, practically sashaying over to a wall full of "toys" sat. She tried to not notice the blood staining blades and leather. She kept her canine form, her scarred face following his every movement. "I've been wondering what would happen if we had something...new to play with. Skinwalkers are such a _delight_ , aren't they?"

Matt's lips curved into a grin and, disgusted, Alex bared her teeth, ignoring the heavy piece of leather laced with silver strapped around her throat to the point that she rasped for breath. She flinched when the demon grabbed something and strode closer, yanking on the chain attached to the makeshift collar.

"You know what?" he murmured in her ear, ignoring the blood-stained muzzle that crinkled as she snarled. "How about we play a little game, Miss Montgomery? For every second you stay in this skin, we'll let my friend over there take off a piece of your brother." He tossed a blade and the demon in Matt's body caught it.

"Fingers first?" he mused, wiggling Matt's fingers and smirking at them.

Alex took a shaken breath and forced her body to cooperate, scowling at the demon the second she was done. She shivered in the chill, regretting the lack of clothes - and lack of ability to figure out just what the hell had happened that no angel had busted in just yet.

Barachiel had claimed to be some kind of...guardian angel.

So where was he?

Where was _Cas_?

Someone _had_ to know about her situation...didn't they?

Alex grunted as she was hurled to the stone floor, just barely catching herself before her face smashed into it. A growl spilled unintentionally from her lips when the demon planted his foot on her again. She hated demons.

 _Hated_ them.

"Good girl," he crooned, driving his heel into her shoulder until there was a sharp pop. Alex yelped, unable to help herself. She shuddered at the pain of a dislocated shoulder, trying not to move.

"Now," he continued, leaning down so that he could look at her. She glared up at him with a snarl. "Why don't we see just how far we can go before a skinwalker dies? We can hand deliver your soul to Lucifer before he's even shown up."

Alex couldn't bite back the shriek when a knife of silver was driven through her hand and into the stone beneath her.

* * *

He was fuming over his failed attempt to convince Castiel of the truth - that stopping Sam and finding Alex was their best chance of stopping everything - when the angel he'd been thinking of appeared and, like a train, slammed him into a wall by the shoulder and cupped a hand over his mouth, glaring speechlessly into Dean's eyes.

The startled hunter stared back and then inclined his head. Castiel pulled himself away and didn't hesitate to take a knife from his trench coat - his blade - and draw it over his forearm. Smearing the blood that pooled onto his palm and fingers, he wordlessly went to work, drawing symbols.

Dean, watched, astonished, and spun around when a furious Zachariah appeared, demanding, "Castiel! What the hell are you-"

Castiel slammed his bloody hand in the center of the sigil he'd drawn and Dean threw an arm up to cover his eyes when a flash of violent white light slammed through the room. Zachariah disappeared without a trace.

Breathing heavily, Castiel turned a dark look on Dean. "He won't be gone long. We have to find Sam. _Now_."

"Where is he?" Dean demanded, relaxing just a fraction. He was ready to fight - to run if necessary. "What about-"

"Sam is our priority now," Castiel interrupted. "Alex's death would mean nothing in comparison to Lilith's. We have to stop him, Dean. From killing Lilith."

Dean was puzzled. He raked a hand through his hair as he stated slowly, "But Lilith's going to break the final seal. Why would we stop him?"

Castiel grimaced and told him, " _Lilith_ is the final seal. If she is killed, then the end begins." Without further explanation, he lunged for Dean's shoulder, gripping it tightly. Between one moment and the next, Dean found himself in the living room of none other than Chuck Shurley, who, mid-sentence on the phone, dropped his phone and stared.

"This isn't supposed to happen," he breathed.

"Well, suck it up buttercup," Dean said with a grim smile. "Because it is."

* * *

Alex drew in a ragged breath, her blue eyes dulled with pain as blood dripped from between her lips. She knelt on her hands and knees, her red-blonde hair hanging around her face in a sticky matted mess. The demon paced in circles around her, clicking his tongue at the sight of lacerations and bruises, and Alex, in a last ditch attempt to fend him off when he came at her with his blade, summoned her own.

Or, at least, she tried.

It barely flickered before disappearing again.

In that moment, she realized she was truly, entirely screwed.

He scowled. "Why don't," he purred, nudging at one of many broken bones with a toe. She bit back a moan of pain, snatching her hand away and rattling it to her chest. "You try that again, Miss Montgomery?"

She said nothing, staring stonily at the side of the warehouse.

She would do no such thing, she told herself. Alex would refuse to respond. She locked her sanity somewhere else and focused her attention on nothing. She would stay silent; she would do nothing to convince them to antagonize her more-

"Do you think gutting or removal of limbs is a better way of torture?" the demon in Matt's body questioned, watching them closely with excited black eyes. "I'm fond of both, honestly."

"I don't know," the other mused, "both _are_ fun, aren't they? Ooh, I know." He leaned in, forcing her head back after grabbing a handful of her hair. "I have an idea...how about both? By her hands?"

"Make me," Alex bit out, snarling under her breath.

He beamed. "Gladly."

* * *

"A _convent_? You're telling me that my idiot brother is at a convent?"

"Yeah," Chuck said, hands fluttering anxiously as his gaze shifted back and forth between the cranky angel and Dean, who was pacing quickly. Everyone was high on stress levels - particularly the prophet. "But you guys aren't supposed to be there, you're not in this story. And quite honestly, if you want to break the laws of...of nature or something, I'd start with-"

"We're making it up as we go," Castiel said darkly.

Chuck opened his mouth to retort, but shut it when he noticed his computer screen flickering. His face paled as a loud rumble filled their ears, white light filtering in through the windows. "Aw," he nearly whined. "Not again."

"It's the archangel," Castiel realized, immediately freeing his blade of its safe place. He turned to Dean, all ready reaching for him, but Chuck cut in, demanding, "Do you even know where Alex is right now? She's not in a good place. Not good at all."

"What do you mean?" Dean demanded, but Castiel grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to pay attention.

"Stop Sam," he ordered, searching Dean's wide eyes. With slammed his palm almost painfully onto Dean's forehead.

Between one blink and the next, Dean found himself in an empty space, looking around a stone corridor. He gave himself a moment to clear his head, breath coming heavily from the stress of an archangel suddenly attacking, and then threw himself forward at a dead run. He rounded a corner and would have passed a hall that split off from the one he was in - had he not heard voices. His head snapped around and he jolted down the hall.

His gaze flickered with rage when he looked through a set of open doors and found Ruby staring at him. Her lips curved into a sensuous grin and she flicked her fingers.

Dean swore when the doors slammed shut, bolting towards them. He braced his shoulder and crashed into them, pissed when they didn't fly open like he needed them to. "Sam!" he shouted, and then tried louder. "Sam!"

His heart raced in his chest, panic rising when there was no response. He spun around on his heel, eyes hunting for something - anything. His brother wasn't at fault. Dean knew it. But Sam thought he was doing the right thing - something that bitch had coerced him into. Something that he didn't know was wrong.

He grabbed the first heavy metal thing he could find - some kind of candle-holding device he wasn't even sure bout the name of - and tried it. He pounded on the door with the heavy object.

Precious seconds - and minutes after that - rolled by. Finally, the door burst open. Dean took one look at the situation, at Lilith dead on the floor with blood pooling from her body and at Ruby smirking at Sam, purring, "And he's going to be grateful. He's going to repay you in ways that you can't even imagine, Sam."

Sam looked nearly broken, his face full of horror as he stared at the demon he'd trusted so deeply.

Dean didn't hesitate, drawing his knife. The demon blade gleamed wickedly in his hand. Ruby spun to look at him, laughing, her eyes glittering with malice. "You're too late," she mocked.

In a hollow voice, he said, "I don't care." Dean took one step forward, and then a second. Sam stumbled forward, grabbing her by the shoulders and with one final lunge, Dean plunged his blade into her chest. She shrieked in pain, the familiar light of a dying demon snapping through her body. A moment later, he yanked the knife free and Ruby hit the ground, dead.

Sam stared at Dean, his eyes full of grief, guilt, and despair. "I'm sorry," he said, voice cracking.

Despite his fury with Sam, despite the fact that Sam had quite literally brought about the apocalypse, Dean was glad to see that he was remarkably unharmed. He didn't know about Bobby or Alex, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he noticed the blood surrounding Lilith curling itself into some kind of symbol on the stone floor of the convent. His eyes widened a fraction when something brilliantly white blasted from the center of the symbol, the world around them shaking violently.

"Sammy," Dean said, grabbing Sam's jacket. "Let's go." He dragged Sam away from the sigil and Sam finally focused on the situation at hand entirely. He threw himself forward and the Winchesters bolted for the doors - just in time for them to slam shut.

Dean shouted a vulgar word and slammed his shoulder into it. It didn't even budge.

A loud, painful nose filled their ears and Sam spun to look at the light, throwing up a hand to protect his eyes. Dean grimaced as the noise grew louder, throwing his hands up to cover his ears.

They exchanged a final look before light exploded and there was only darkness.

* * *

 _"This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency, leave a message."_

She took a ragged breath, tasting only the coppery tang of blood in her mouth. A ragged sound left her lips. "Dean," she breathed, barely able to move. She didn't care that she was naked. She didn't care that every part of her ached and sent agony through her nerves. She didn't even care that the scars on her face had been re-carved open.

She didn't understand why they'd left her a phone with a set of coordinates left open on the screen, but...she wasn't going to complain about that.

She licked her lips and began again.

"Dean," Alex said, a ragged sob escaping her. "Please. Sam won't...pick up. Bobby won't." She couldn't form functional sentences, only ragged pieces. "Please." Could only beg. "Please." She listed the coordinates. "Avery's...dead. I think. And...so is…" She sobbed, ignoring the way the pain shot through her. She hung up, using her left hand. She was sure every bone in the right hand was shattered.

She cried harder, not caring that she'd tried for so long to keep such things to herself as she finally lifted her blue eyes to look into her brother's.

The only thing she could think was how badly his blood tasted in her mouth.

* * *

 _The end of season four! I purposely left out Sam's moments and focused more on Dean and Alex for this chapter, so. :D In season five's mess, some things will start picking up._

 _Thanks to reviewers (emily2696 and ashley!) as well as those who favorited and followed! I really, REALLY appreciate it! :)_


	31. Sympathy for the Devil

When Dean opened his eyes, he immediately dropped his hands from his eyes in favor of clutching the armrests on either side of him with a hissed, "What the hell?"

"I don't know," Sam breathed, stunned as he looked around. No one in the space around them seemed to recognize that the pair had come out of nowhere. Neither understood entirely what had happened, nor did Dean really want to.

A voice filled the air and Sam glanced at his brother, who looked horrified that they'd found themselves on a plane. _"Folks,"_ the pilot announced, _"quick word from the flight deck. Just passing over Ilchester, then Ellicott City, on our initial descent into Baltimore, so if you'd like to stretch your legs, now would be a good time to-"_

The pilot cut off with a shout and people screamed as a white blast filled the air outside of the plane, shooting into the sky. It was as if something slammed into the plant, throwing it off balance. Oxygen masks dropped from above their heads. Dean snatched his up as quickly as he could, shoving it on his face and sitting back and staring out the window with a look of terror.

* * *

The car rumbled peacefully over the road. Dean had stolen it within minutes of the plane landing, determined to get the Impala before getting on the road and figure everything out. Sam didn't care all that much.

 _"-and Governor O'Malley urged calm, saying it's very unlikely an abandoned convent would be a target for terrorists whether they be foreign or homegrown."_

Dean scowled at the voice on the radio, muttering, "Change the station."

Sam, wordless, quietly did as he said. He pressed the button gently and a new radio announcer's voice filled the air. _"-Hurricane Kinley, unexpectedly slamming into the Galveston area-"_ Press. _"-announced a successful test of the North Korean nuclear-"_ Press. _"-a series of tremors-"_ Press. _"-swine flu-"_

Sam just shut the radio off. After a few heartbeats of silence, Sam sighed and looked at Dean desperately, saying, "Dean, look-"

"Don't," Dean said quietly in response, "say anything." He paused, as if thinking over everything, and finally said, "It's okay." Not really. So much of this was _not_ okay. "We've just got to keep our heads down and hash this out, all right?" He didn't even want to know what Sam had done with Ruby after beating him to hell and back before disappearing.

"Okay," Sam answered finally. "Yeah, okay."

"Alright, good. First things first," Dean said, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. "How did we end up on Soul Plane?"

"Angels maybe?" Sam suggested. "I mean, beaming us out of harm's way?" He fidgeted unhappily in his seat and Dean ignored it.

"Well, whatever." No use in pouring over something they couldn't figure out right now. He had more important things to worry about. "We need to find Alex. And Cas. Chuck said something about Alex, before Cas shipped me off."

"Then Chuck's house it is," Sam decided and Dean merely inclined his head.

Chuck's house it was.

After they picked up Baby, of course.

* * *

Sam had barely taken one step into the living room of Chuck's house before something hard slammed into the back of his head. Dean jerked back, only a step behind as Sam stumbled and nearly smacked into him. He put a hand to his head, horrified. "Ow!"

"Oh. Sam," Chuck breathed, narrowing his eyes a little as he lowered the toilet plunger he'd beat Sam over the head with. "So...you're okay?"

"Well," Sam retorted irritably, "my head hurts."

"No," Chuck denied, frowning, "I mean...I mean my last vision." He glanced to Dean momentarily, and then focused back on Sam, suspicious. "You went, like, full-on Vader. Your body temperature was one-fifty. Your heart rate was two hundred and your eyes were _black_."

Dean wanted to throttle Sam more than he ever had before. "Your eyes went black?" he asked softly.

Sam peered over his shoulder at his brother, grimacing. "I didn't know."

"Where's Cas?" Dean said, deciding to move on. If they kept on that track, he wouldn't be held liable for his actions. He peered around for the angel and the look on Chuck's face had him stopping dead.

"He's dead. Or gone," Chuck told them with a groan. "The archangel smote the crap out of him. I'm sorry."

Dean bit back guilt, pushing forward. "You're sure? I mean, maybe he just...vanished into the light or something."

"Oh, no." Chuck was confident, looking Dean in the eye. "He exploded. Like...like a water balloon of-"

"Uh, Chuck?" Sam cut in after a moment of hesitation. He leaned in to look closer and then gestured to his head. "You've got a...um…"

Chuck felt around his ear and Sam indicated for him to try the other side. He did so, carefully feeling his hair, and then paled. "Oh. Oh, God, that's a molar, isn't it? It is. I have a molar in my hair." He gave a somewhat hysterical laugh. "This has been a really stressful day."

"Cas," Dean murmured under his breath, "you stupid bastard." He glanced at Chuck, eyes burning. "What about Alex? Where's she?"

Chuck's eyes widened a fraction as he flicked the molar from his hair, shuddering in disgust. "Alex? Oh, uh...God, this is awkward...she's not doing too hot right now. Check your phone recently?"

Dean gestured at Sam in exasperation; he'd been kind of busy and, on top of it, his phone hadn't worked properly while he was with the angels-

"Oh, crap," Chuck suddenly said, looking around with a groan. Sam questioned him with a single look, and Chuck opened his mouth to answer what was about to happen, but was interrupted.

"Thought we'd find you here."

Dean and Sam spun around, and Chuck edged closer to them, as if certain they'd be able to keep him safe. Not, Dean supposed, that he had anything to worry about. He had an archangel protecting him.

"Playtime's over, Dean. Time to come with us." Zachariah looked proud, standing with two other angels on either side of him. His suit was immaculate, his gaze cold and clear.

Dean gave him a vulgar gesture with his finger. "Keep your distance, asshat."

"You're upset," Zachariah said almost sadly.

"Yeah," he retorted. A little. You sons of bitches jump-started Judgement Day!"

"Okay, so _maybe_ we let it happen...but we didn't start anything." Zachariah gave Sam a mocking smile and wink. "Right, Sammy? You had a chance to stop your brother, Dean," he told Dean, turning back to the eldest Winchester. "So let's not quibble over who started what. Let's just say it was all our faults and move on. 'Cause like it or not, it's the Apocalypse. And we're back on the same team again."

"Is that so?" Dean said snarkily, not pleased to be having another conversation with the dick before him.

"You want to kill the devil, we want you to kill the devil. Synergy." Zachariah beamed as if he was proud of himself.

"And I'm just supposed to trust you? Cram it with the walnuts, ugly." Dean crossed his arms, noting how Sam was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, looking between he and the angels, as if suspicious. Not that he had any right to be suspicious. Not when Dean had given him chance after chance.

"This isn't a game, son," Zachariah snarled, losing the facade for the time being. "Lucifer is powerful in ways that defy description. We need to strike now, hard and fast - before he finds his vessel."

"His vessel?" At long last, Sam spoke up. "Lucifer needs a meat suit?"

"He may be Lucifer, but he is an angel." Zachariah sneered at Sam with disgust in his eyes. "And when he touches down, we're talking the Four Horsemen, red oceans, fiery skies. The greatest hits. You can stop him Dean." Now he smiled brightly again, as if that would convince the elder Winchester. "But you need our help."

Dean insulted him with some rather vulgar words, and Zachariah laughed. "You listen to me, boy. You think you can rebel against us? Like-" He paused, staring at Dean's hand. As if just noticing that blood had been dripping from between his fingers and forming a small puddle beneath him and smearing on his arm where it touched. "You're bleeding."

Dean grinned. "Oh, yeah," he drawled, shifting to the door that Sam had carefully opened before being attacked by Chuck. He kicked it shut with his foot, revealing a sigil that had been drawn in his blood. "A little insurance policy in case you dicks showed up." Without a moment's hesitation, Dean slammed his bloodied palm over the center of it and watched without flinching as the angels were banished by a brilliant light that flashed through the room.

"Learned that from my friend Cas, you son of a bitch," he muttered, scowling.

"This sucks ass," Chuck whimpered.

"You think?" Dean wiped his hand on his jeans. "Where do we go to find Alex, Chuck?"

"Like I said." He reached for a bottle of vodka that he'd seemingly kept on a table, looking exhausted. "Check your phone."

* * *

As he loaded his handgun, making sure he had enough ammo, Dean listened to his voicemail on speaker, his gaze was hard with anger.

A ragged gasp filled the air. _"Dean,"_ Alex's voice croaked, filled with agony and grief. There was a moment of silence and then she sobbed into the phone, _"Dean. Please. Sam won't...pick up. Bobby won't. Please. Please."_ She stated a set of coordinates that he made sure to memorize immediately so that he could look into them as soon as the message was done. Or have his brother look up when Sam showed back up. _"Avery's...dead. I think. And..so is…"_ He'd never heard the skinwalker make the strangled sound she made now. She didn't continue, merely ending the message.

How the _hell_ had everything gone so horribly wrong?

Sam entered the room a moment later, closing the door quietly behind him. "Hey," he greeted and Dean lifted his gun in greeting before returning to making sure everything was loaded correctly. "Did you find out where Alex is at?"

"Yeah." Dean replayed the voicemail and saw Sam's face pale a little, his hand darting to his own phone to look. He grimaced as he looked at the missed call. "Find out where the coordinates point to, would you?" He fiddled with the safety, making sure it was on. "We need to track her down. Soon."

"Yeah." Sam hunted down his laptop. As it was turning on, he suddenly tugged something from his pocket and tossed it at Dean. Dean paused in playing with his gun to catch it. "Hex bag," Sam explained, clearing his throat. "No way the angels will find us with those. Demons, either, for that matter." He hesitated when Dean looked to him for an explanation. "I made it."

"How?"

"I...Ruby taught me."

Dean put his gun on the bed he'd been sitting on, climbing to his feet as Sam dropped to sit on the other bed. He pulled the open laptop in his lap. "Speaking of...that. How are you doing? Are you jonesing for another hit of bitch blood or what?"

Sam grimaced at his choice in words, clicking to open the browser. "It's weird. To tell you the truth...I'm fine. No shakes, no fever. It's like whoever...whatever put us on that plane cleared me right up." He typed in the coordinates that Alex had read off to them and then sat back, waiting for it to load. "Dean-"

"Sam." Dean gave him a long look. "It's fine. You don't have to say anything." He turned back to the gun, picking it up and tucking it safely into the waist of his jeans at the small of his back.

"Well that's good," Sam said faintly, "because what can I even say? 'I'm sorry' and 'I screwed up' doesn't even begin to do it justice. Look, there's nothing I can say that will ever make this right-"

"So why," Dean snapped, losing his patience, "do you keep bringing it up?" Sam fell silent. After a moment, Dean spun on his heel to look at him. He took a deep breath, calming himself. "Look. All I'm saying is, why do we have to put this under a microscope. We made a mess. We clean it up. That's it."

Sam nodded quietly, not looking at him. A soft sound escaped the laptop and Dean moved around the bed Sam sat on to peer over his shoulder, leaning half-way on the soft blankets.

"Okay," Sam said, reading the information with ease. This? This he could do. This he could do without screwing up. "Look like she's in Nebraska, maybe fifty miles from Lincoln in an abandoned warehouse. Do we send Bobby?"

"No. We do this ourselves." He needed to straighten out what he was going to say to their adopted father before he saw him again. Starting with a semi-apology. And how to break it to Bobby that both Castiel and Avery were dead. Dean straightened as Sam closed the laptop. "Let's go get ourselves a skinwalker."

* * *

Dean didn't say anything, but he was admittedly concerned that, despite driving nonstop from D.C., they might be too late to help the skinwalker. It was a long drive, and by the time they reached the warehouse, she could have very easily been dead. He clicked the safety of a gun off as he started for the doors, Sam close behind.

He cracked one of the double doors open, peering in, and then nodded curtly. Sam lifted his gun as he slid past, ready to fire. Not that the bullets would do much against demons, of course, but they would make do.

"Nothing," Sam said a moment later, lowering his weapon.

Dean didn't. He kept it ready as he edged inside and called in a low voice, "Alex?"

Silence met his ears and he grimaced before striding further in, relaxing a fraction. Had there been demons in the building, they would have known by this point. "Alex," he tried again, lifting his tone to a shout.

He would have missed it had he not paused to check his phone to see if he'd missed something in the voicemail; there was a soft groan. Dean briskly paced towards a door at the back. His gaze locked on the large half-dried stains on the cement floor and tried to not think too much about whose blood that was.

"Alex," Sam called from the other end.

Dean stopped before the door, took a deep breath, and then yanked it open. His gun went up immediately, prepared for an attack.

He lowered it when he saw what was before him.

"'Bout bloody time." Alex peered up at him from where she was slouched on the ground, face blank and eyes defeated. She'd tugged on her bloody, torn clothes, not bothering to wash herself free of the sticky red flakes that decorated her skin. He could see deep wounds in her arms, a puncture in her right hand along with fingers bent in ways they shouldn't have been. He nearly felt sick at the way her scars on her face had seemed to been traced to the bone with a blade. Beside her, eyes staring blankly up, was Matt - or the body that had once housed him. Dead, with his throat torn.

"Son of a _bitch_ ," Dean muttered, swallowing thickly.

"I did it," she whispered, unable to make herself louder. Her throat was aching horrifically. She touched the blood on her lips with shaking hands, ignoring the pain that raced through the broken one. "I...I did it. I killed him."

"Possessed?" Dean guessed, carefully squatting as close as he could get to her, debating on what to do. They would salt and burn Matt's body at the very least, give him a viking funeral hunter-style. And do some tests to make sure Alex wasn't still possessed.

"Maybe. Yes." She lowered her gaze to look at her brother's face. She shifted and hissed, slumping. "Sam?"

"Here. But...Lucifer got loose." Dean lowered his voice, grimacing. "Killing Lilith was the final seal. The angels wanted it to happen."

She thought about that and said slowly, "...none of them...came." She took a shuddering breath and gave a wet-sounding cough. "Not even Cas."

"He's dead," Dean said bluntly, and her breath hitched awkwardly. "Alright, puppy, let's get you out of here." He looked over his shoulder and called, "Sam! Over here." When he heard his brother's footsteps, he said, "Can you walk?"

She thought about it and then mumbled, "No."

"Right." He shoved his gun into the waist of his jeans after clicking the safety on. He took a deep breath, and then began to work intently on working his arm behind her and the other beneath her knees. Finally, he heaved himself to his feet, staggering when he was thrown off balance. In any other situation, he might have joked about her weight, but…

Not now. Not when she pleadingly grabbed the collar of his shirt and breathed, "Don't leave Matt here."

He rolled his eyes. "What kind of person do you take me for? Sam," he ordered when Sam stopped in the doorway, staring at Alex and then Matt in shocked horror. "Grab him, would you?"

"Yeah." Sam swallowed thickly, clearing his throat. "Yeah. Meet you at the car."

"What the hell happened, Alex?" he demanded as he carried her to the car. "Weren't you going to help him?"

She took a moment to think it over, and then shook her head. "Lilith was there," was all she said before she clamped her mouth shut and said nothing more, her eyes flickering shut as she passed out right there. Dean blinked, and then carefully maneuvered her so he could open the car door and slide her in.

When she was sprawled on the back seat, he ran a hand down his face and then turned to watch as Sam carried Matt's body carefully from the warehouse. "She's not waking up anytime soon, and we need to get her fixed up before she does. It's gonna be hell cleaning up her face. And that hand."

Sam muttered his agreement. "Do we...do we burn him here?"

Dean was pretty sure that Alex was going to rip their heads off for this, but…

"Yeah," he decided, making for the trunk. "I'll get the salt and lighter. Don't need him haunting our ass while we're trying to figure out how to stop the devil."

* * *

The next day found them holed up in a motel. Dean clicked through various channels, pausing on one while Sam skimmed through their father's journal for any signs of what to do next. Alex, still unconscious and covered from head to toe in what bandages they could scavenge, was curled up beneath the cover on one of the beds.

 _"How would you explain an earthquake, a hurricane, and multiple tornadoes all at the same time, all around the globe?"_ one reporter was snapping.

 _"Two words. Carbon emissions."_

Dean snorted sarcastically, "Yeah, right."

Sam opened his mouth to mock his brother for talking to the TV, but was interrupted when there was a knock on the motel room's door. They exchanged a look. Sam closed the journal and set it aside as Dean yanked his gun out of hiding and readied it. When the eldest Winchester nodded, Sam opened the door - and blinked.

A woman stood there, her dark eyes alight with so much excitement, he thought she'd have a heart attack. Her breathing was near strangled as he asked, hesitant, "Uh...you okay, lady?"

"Sam? she breathed, and his alarm grew. "Is it really you?" She dared a step closer, placing her hand lightly on his chest, and he threw a near terrified look at Dean, who made an odd gesture. "So firm…"

"Do I know you?" he said awkwardly, gently swatting her hand away.

She almost pouted as she said, "No. but I know you. You're Sam Winchester." She glanced at Dean, beaming. "And you're-" She paused to look at him. He'd hidden his gun hastily before she had, awkwardly standing there. "-not what I expected. I'm Becky."

She pushed her way into the room, her eyes crossing curiously over everything. She paused on Alex, eyes growing round. "Oh."

"Look, can we help you?" Dean said irritably. He climbed to his feet, ready to shove her out. While he usually didn't mind unexpected women, this one was getting on his nerves with her all-knowing attitude.

"Mr. Edlund told me where you were." She gave Dean an agitated look.

"Chuck?" Now Dean was interested. Sam nudged the door shut and folded his arms, waiting.

"He's got a message, but he's being watched. Angels. Nice change-up to the mythology, by the way. The demon stuff was getting kind of old." Dean opened his mouth to make a complaint that "the demon stuff" was a big part of their lives, but Sam cut in quickly.

"What's the message?" he asked.

"He had a vision," Becky reported. "'The Michael sword is on earth. The angels have lost it.'"

Dean's eyebrows rose. "'The Michael sword?'"

"Becky, does he know where it is?" Sam demanded, focusing on the important parts. His eyes flickered with a calculating look, as if he was trying to figure everything out. He'd look into what the Michael sword was later.

"In a castle, on a hill made of forty-two dogs," she told them. As if it were helpful.

"Forty-two...dogs?"

Both Winchesters snapped their heads around when Alex spoke. The skinwalker looked like hell - they'd made sure to get her bandaged up, but hadn't washed her and had no clothes to give her for the time being. Everything had been at Bobby's, in a motel room, or in the Impala. But her blue eyes were a little bit more alive.

Becky stared at her again, and Dean had to fight back a huff of disgust. It wasn't a good time for people to hang around...fangirling, or whatever it was called.

The skinwalker didn't seem to notice, merely looking to Sam and then him with a tired look. He found himself a little concerned. She wasn't tired physically. She wasn't even tired emotionally.

She was tired in ways they all knew well, and it wasn't a good thing.

"Are you sure that's right?" Sam asked, trying to revert the conversation back to what they thought important.

"It doesn't make sense, but that's what he said," Becky told him, not taking her eyes away from Alex. Alex looked her in the eye and then lifted her brows a little. Flushing, Becky looked back to Sam. Regaining her composure, she stepped up to the youngest Winchester. 'I memorized every word." She gingerly lifted a hand and placed it against Sam's chest again. Alex's eyebrows went higher. "For you."

Sam cleared his throat, shifting with an unhappy look on his face. Dean smirked a little at the sight. Let him be awkward. "Um...Becky? C-can you quit, uh, touching me?"

She beamed.

"No."

* * *

Alex hissed in pain, looking ready to club Sam over the ear as he gently peeled away the bandaging they'd arranged over her face. "Watch it!"

"Sorry," he muttered. He looked much happier - _had_ been - since Becky had left hours before. The woman had driven him crazy. Alex couldn't blame him. It _had_ been a little weird. Sam peered carefully at the wounds on her face, aware that they couldn't just drive her to a hospital. On the bright side, they were all ready in the process of healing.

"Easy," he murmured when she growled. He'd had to tug a little on one that stuck. Dean, looking out the window impatiently, glanced over. He made a face and then went back to looking out the window, dubbing it safer than dealing with the cranky skinwalker.

"Do you feel any better at least?" Sam asked her, grabbing some hydrogen peroxide.

Alex's face paled when he poured some onto a clean dishrag. "Maybe. I don't know." She took a deep breath and groaned softly when it tugged at what they all assumed to be broken ribs. "Matt?" she demanded, looking over at the eldest Winchester.

Dean glanced back again, meeting her gaze. "Hunter's funeral," he told her. "We did it. We couldn't lug his body around."

Alex was quiet despite the fact that Sam had begun to dab at the reopened scars. "...thank you," she said finally. She touched her chin thoughtfully, as if imagining the blood that had stained it. While they hadn't gone and cleaned her up entirely, Sam had been sure to clean the blood from her mouth.

As if knowing what it felt like to have someone's blood there.

"Ouch," she whined, yanking away.

"Sorry," Sam repeated, following her quickly. He wanted to get it done, before she decided enough was enough. "You realize that this is only the start of it all, right? You've got lacerations. _Everywhere_."

"I know," she muttered. "They went to bloody town on me, didn't they? Twats."

Sam's lips quirked a little in amusement.

They fell silent for a while. Suddenly, Alex yanked her face away from Sam's grip and stared at the door. Her eyes narrowed a fraction, and she grimaced a moment before there was a knock on it. Dean abandoned his place at the window, striding for it. Sam and Alex watched as he opened the door and was greeted by a cranky yet relieved looking Bobby.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean said, sounding like he'd found a father who'd been missing for years.

Bobby hugged him tightly, clapping him on the shoulder. Alex gave a low rumbling growl, her gaze locked on him as he turned to hug Sam, too. "Good to see you boys all in one piece." His gaze flickered to Alex. "Not you so much, eh?"

Alex said nothing, eyes hard as she stared him down. She opened her mouth to speak, turning to Sam, but Dean cut her off as he asked, "You weren't followed, were you?"

"You mean by angels, demons, or Sam's new superfan?" Sam laughed faintly and Bobby rolled his eyes. "I heard, Romeo. So...sword of Michael, huh?"

"Do you think we're talking about the actual sword from the actual archangel?" Dean ran a hand down his face, feeling better about everything now that Bobby was there. He had yet to tell him about Avery and felt a little guilty about the matter; Bobby had liked her, likely seen her as he saw Sam and Dean - another addition to the family he'd created after his wife's death.

"You better friggin' hope so," was Bobby's response. Bobby shrugged a bag he'd brought with him off his shoulder, removing a book. Alex bared her teeth a little, but no one took notice as he opened the book to a page that held a painting on it. He tapped the page. "This is Michael," he told them, indicating which angel he meant. "Toughest son of a bitch they got."

Sam climbed to his feet and joined them. He looked over Bobby's shoulder and then reached out to turn the page. "You've gotta be kidding me," Dean muttered, "the guy looks like Cate Blanchett."

"Yeah, if Cate Blanchett commanded the heavenly host," Bobby muttered. "During the last big dust-up upstairs, he was the one who booted Lucifer's ass to the basement. Did i with that sword." He tapped the sword that was displayed in Michael's hand in the painting, his eyes narrowing. "So if we can find it…"

Alex cleared her throat, trying to demand their attention, but Sam spoke before she could get a word in. "We can kick the devil's ass all over again. All right. So...where do we start?"

"Divvy up and start reading," Bobby told him, waving towards the bag he'd brought. It was full of books and articles with information in them. "We try and make sense of Chuck's...nonsense."

Sam nodded, but didn't reach for any reading materials as Dean did. He merely watched, his face grim. Alex lunged for the opportunity, but Bobby spoke.  
Kid? You alright?"

"No," Sam muttered. He cleared his face of anything but anguish as he looked at Bobby. "This is my fault. I'm sorry. Lilith...she didn't break the final seal. She _was_ the final seal. I killed her, and I set Lucifer free."

"You what?" Bobby breathed.

"Dean," Alex pleaded, trying to drag herself out of the bed, but she was ignored again as Sam said miserably, "You guys warned me about Ruby, the demon blood...but I didn't listen. I brought this on."

"You're damn right you didn't listen," Bobby breathed, stepping right up to him. Sam reminded Alex of a puppy as Bobby spat, "You were reckless and selfish and arrogant." Sam uttered an apology of sorts. "You're _sorry_ you started Armageddon? This kind of thing don't get forgiven, boy." Alex narrowed her eyes into angry slits. "If, by some miracle, we pull this up...lose my number. You understand me?"

Sam was silent for a moment, and then said, "I'm...there's an old church nearby. I'll go read the lore books there."

"Yeah," Bobby retorted, "You do that." He turned his back on the youngest Winchester, whose expression seemed to break just the slightest before he grabbed his jacket and left the room without looking back.

Alex rumbled low in her throat, glaring at Bobby, looking ready to throttle the older hunter as she settled down as comfortably as she could in the bed, aware that she couldn't move too well. Her body throbbed and exhaustion was all ready sweeping through, ready to drag her under without hesitation.

When Dean glanced her way - _finally_ \- she narrowed her eyes and pointedly looked at Bobby before flicking her gaze back to him. Dean merely lifted his eyebrows and grabbed a book from Bobby's bag, ready to look into Michael's sword. Furious that he didn't understand that something was off, Alex curled up on the bed, hoping she wasn't going to be murdered before she woke up.

Because Bobby reeked of sulphur and while she adored him…

She didn't trust him for an instant.

* * *

"I never would have guessed that your daddy was right." Dean paused, resting his finger on a sentence as he looked up from the book he'd been skimming through. A puzzled look rested on his face and Bobby clarified, "About your brother. What John said...having you save Sam or kill him. Maybe...maybe we shouldn't have tried so hard to save him."

Dean's face hardened into a mask of irritation. He sat back, forgetting his place in the book he'd been looking through as he glared a little at Bobby. He would never regret fighting for Sam, even when Sam was a downright moron when it came to knowing what he was doing. Sam was his _brother_. "Bobby," he snapped.

"He ended the world, Dean. And you and I weren't strong enough to stop him proper. That's on us." Bobby looked down at his book again, shaking his head. "I'm just saying. Your dad was right."

Something struck Dean as strange as he popped his back, looking over at Alex for the time being to check on her. She wasn't doing well, he noted. Her breathing was harsh, and her sleeping face was flushed with what he thought to be fever. He grimaced; she was a mess. And angry, from what he'd gathered hours before.

It struck him as odd, he supposed. She'd given Bobby a nasty look, and probably would have bitten his head off for what he'd been saying about Sam and his father-

"Dad," Dean spouted suddenly, realization snapping through him. He dove for his duffel, digging furiously through it until he found a Ziplock bag full of credit cards and other such pieces of plastic and paper. His green eyes flashed. "It's got to be in here somewhere…"

"The hell are you talking about?" Bobby demanded.

"Here." Dean grinned as he paused in flipping through them. He pulled a card out and held it up. Bobby stood, joining him, and together, they looked down at the simple card. "I don't believe it. It's a card for my dad's lockup state in upstate New York. Read it."

Bobby took the card. "'Castle Storage. Forty-two Rover Hill.'"

"Castle on a hill of forty-two dogs," Dean reminded him, taking the card back. He shoved it back into the bag, zipping the bag up and then proceeding to drop it on top of his duffel.

"So you think your dad had the Michael sword all this time?" Bobby asked, frowning.

"I don't know. I'm not sure what else Chuck could have meant." Dean was excited, all ready heading over to wake up Alex. She needed to be up and ready for traveling, although he wasn't sure it would feel too good. He'd call Sam while she was preparing herself.

"Yeah, okay." Something about Bobby's tone had him stopping. He turned to face Bobby just in time to see his eyes turn entirely black. "Sounds good enough for me." Dean's eyes sprang wide and he opened his mouth to swear, but was caught by surprise when Bobby's hand slammed hard into his chest, sending him flying. Dean slammed into a nightstand between the beds in the motel room and Alex sprang awake immediately, teeth bared.

"Bloody hell," she began to snarl, struggling to sit up as Bobby strode over. He grabbed Dean by the collar of his shirt, not bothering to spare Alex so much as a second glance as he dragged him to his feet, grinning.

"I wouldn't move," a woman crooned as she slid into the motel room with a man behind her, "if I were you, Alexandriana." Alex bristled at the use of her full name - and at the sight of two more demons. The female demon's dark hair shimmered around her shoulders, her black eyes shining with excitement.

Dean used a hand to try and pry at Bobby's fingers, but a carefully aimed elbow to his face stopped him.

"I always knew you were a big, dumb, slow pain in the ass, Dean," the woman hummed, sidling over to the table Dean had been researching at moments before. She smiled at the sight of the demon blade, picking it up and running a finger over the edge. "I mean, you're going to...what, how did you put it? Ice the devil? _You_? If I'd have known that, I'd have ripped your pretty face off ages ago."

"Ruby," Alex rumbled, but Dean's face shifted when she shook her head.

"Try again," she hummed, looking at Dean and Dean alone.

"Meg," he realized. Alex glanced at him, puzzled; she wouldn't have known Meg, he remembered. Meg had been before she'd come to join them. His eyes flickered with wariness.

"Hi," she said with mocking charm. "These are the days of miracle and wonder, you know. Our father's among us. You know...we're all dreaming again for the first time since we were human. It's Heaven on earth. Or Hell. We really owe your brother a fruit basket."

"You really like the sound of your own bloody voice, don't you," Alex said coldly, judging the situation with cool, calculating blue eyes. She growled when the male behind Meg shifted. As if to approach her.

Meg gave her a wicked grin. "How's Mr. Montgomery?"

"Bitch," Dean muttered as Alex flinched and snarled outright at her. She had her hand touching the inside of her arm, ready to leap into action despite her injuries. Her fingers still looked a little crooked - a new, permanent look - and her face was half-covered with bandages.

"You know," Meg drawled, returning her attention to Dean. "Your surrogate daddy's still awake, screaming in there. And I want him to know how it feels slicing the life out of you." Dean's eyes narrowed with hate as she passed the knife to Bobby.

"Bobby," Alex rasped, immediately rising from her place.

Meg clicked her tongue as the knife was immediately placed at Dean's throat. Dean went still, and found himself a little fearful. Alex lurched from the bed, but a swift kick to her legs from Meg had her downed, the skinwalker nowhere near ready to be up and fighting just yet.

"Bobby," Dean demanded, not moving an inch. Alex swore when Bobby lifted the blade. "Bobby! No!"

A flicker suddenly ran through Bobby's eyes and before Dean knew what was happening, the weapon in Bobby's hand had plunged downwards. He flinched, prepared for pain -

But blood - not his own - spattered on his clothes, seeping through the material. "Bobby!" Alex nearly sobbed as he collapsed, hitting the ground harshly as the demon died within him. Without hesitation, Dean threw himself at Meg.

Before he could get to her, the demon that accompanied her drove his shoulder into the eldest Winchester's chest and downed him with ease, driving him away. Alex crawled on her hands and knees over to check Bobby's pulse, trying to tend to him in whatever way she could. She only distantly heard the door slam open.

"Heya, Sammy," Meg crooned as he stared at everything in shock. "You miss me? 'Cause I sure missed _you_."

Sam's dark eyes lifted to rest on her, bewildered. "Meg?" She grinned, giving a little finger wiggle in greeting, and Sam's expression darkened. Dean shouted when the other demon's fist connected with his jaw. He lunged for her, trying to catch her like Dean had and she laughed as she spun out of the way.

A well-aimed kick to the crotch downed Sam and Meg threw her head back and laughed. "Not so easy without those super-special demon powers, is it?" she mocked.

Alex grimaced as she made up her mind on what she was going to do. She shakily drew the demon blade from Bobby's body - making sure to keep her hand over the wound to stop the bleeding - and shouted Dean's name. His face was bruised and battered, but lit up with understanding. She tossed the knife and he managed to just barely catch it, nicking his hands on the blade as he plunged it into the demon's back.

The demon died with a scream.

Dean snatched the blade free and then went after Meg, whose face twisted with an odd look. She suddenly threw her head back and Alex watched blearily through pained eyes as smoke blasted from her mouth, disappearing in seconds as the woman collapsed, dead.

There was a moment as they all caught their breath. By the time Dean had caught his breath, Sam had all ready stumbled over, kneeling beside Alex. She was shivering, her hands shoved tightly over the bleeding injury as she rasped, "Get him to the hospital. He has to get to a hospital."

Dean lunged for his keys. "I'll get the car."

* * *

"Help me out, would you?" Alex said sharply as Dean left she and Sam to climb out of the Impala on their own, shifting through keys to try and find the right one for the storage room that had once belonged to John Winchester as he went to open the trunk. "I'm not hanging out alone in here."

"Right. Sorry." Sam ducked down and helped her climb out of the back seat. She leaned heavily on him, but looked a little better than before, if not extra worried for the hunter they'd left in the hands of the hospital staff. Sam hadn't wanted to leave him, but Dean had driven a point into both of their heads that neither could deny was important: the demons knew where the Michael sword was, too.

"Here," Dean said, handing a shotgun to Sam. Sam made sure it was loaded, then waited until Dean had given Alex a small gun that wouldn't hurt like hell to shoot. When they were all set, Dean held the keys aloft and they trio made their way to the storage room's door.

The Winchesters went in first, their guns held aloft and Alex kept an eye on the door as she waited for them to clear the room. Sam called her in when they only found the bodies of demons scattered over the floor, and she stumbled quickly in to join them - only to freeze in horror. Sam followed her gaze and lifted his gun despite knowing it wouldn't do anything.

Zachariah stood behind the two, looking amused as Dean snapped around when he spoke, glancing over his shoulder at the two angels that stood behind him. "I see you told the demons where the sword is."

"Oh, thank God," Dean said sarcastically. "The angels are here."

Today was just not their day.

"And to think…" Zachariah clicked his tongue. "They could have grabbed it any time they wanted." Alex's blue eyes narrowed, but her entire body jolted when the door slammed shut, a reaction to the crack of a whip that echoed in her mind. "It was right in front of them."

"Stop speaking," she snapped, "in bloody riddles."

"What do you mean?" Sam agreed, not so much as moving an inch.

"We may have planted that particular piece of prophecy inside of Chuck's skull, but it happened to be true," he drawled. Alex muttered under her breath that he sure liked to hear himself talk and Dean's lips quirked a little at the comment. Zachariah scowled. "We did lose the Michael sword. We truly couldn't find it. Until you hand-delivered it to us." Dean arched a brow, claiming they had nothing, but Zachariah only snorted. "It's you, chucklehead. You're the Michael sword."

Dean blanched. Sam sputtered, and Alex outright laughed in disbelief, the pain of her healing broken ribs leaving her breathless. "What do you mean?" Dean snapped, bewildered.

"You're Michael's weapon, or rather his...receptacle."

"I'm a _vessel_?" Dean said, not believing a word the angel said.

"You're _the_ vessel," Zachariah hummed, "Michael's vessel. You're chosen! It's truly a great honor, Dean."

"Oh, yeah, life as an angel condom," Dean sneered, looking disgusted with the idea. Alex couldn't blame him. Being whatever they claimed to be was the Soldier was bad enough; to be Michael's vessel? Ugh.

"Joking, always joking," Zachariah muttered, sounding disappointed. "Well...no more jokes." He lifted a hand, creating a gun with his fingers. Dean froze when he pointed his fingers at him. But then the attention shifted on Sam. "Bang," Zachariah purred.

There was a loud crunch and Alex cringed at the unnatural shriek Sam gave when he collapsed, his hands trembling as he tried to touch his legs without creating more agonizing pain.

"You son of a _bitch_ ," Dean snarled, and Alex wavered, staggering back a step.

 _No more_.

She wanted no more pain.

"Keep mouthing off," Zachariah challenged. "I'll break more than his legs and then move onto the Soldier. I am completely and utterly through screwing around. The war has begun. We don't have our general. That's bad. Now. Michael is going to take his vessel and lead the final charge against the adversary, do you understand?"

"How many humans die in the crossfire, huh?" Dean challenged as Sam bit back a shout of pain when he shakingly touched a leg. "A million? Five, ten?"

"Probably more. If Lucifer goes unchecked, do you know how many die?" Zachariah looked triumphant with this announcement. "All of them. He'll roast the planet alive."

"There's a reason you're telling me this instead of just nabbing me." Dean studied him closely, and the shift in his expression was enough. "You need my consent. Michael needs my say-so to ride around in my skin." Zachariah curled a lip and muttered something along the lines of "Unfortunately." Dean lifted his chin. "There's gotta be another way."

"There _is_ no other way. There must be a battle. Michael must defeat the serpent. It is written."

"Yeah, maybe." Dean snorted. "On the other hand, eat me. No."

Zachariah was quiet as he contemplated something. Finally, he said, "Okay, how about this? Your friend Bobby," the name was enough to catch all of their attention, "we know he's gravely injured. Say yes, and we'll heal him. Say no and he never walks again." Sam looked pleadingly up at Dean, desperately worried, but Dean shook his head again.

"Then how about we heal you from stage four stomach cancer?" he snarled.

Alex made a sound of horror when Dean choked and heaved, coughing violently. Blood splattered his hand when he instinctively tried to cover his mouth, dripping in large clumps from his lips. As she stepped forward, unsure, Dean said, "No."

"Let's get creative, shall we?" Zachariah looked furious as he gestured to Alex, who heaved for air when it vanished. "Let's see how Alex does without her lungs, shall we?" She collapsed to her knees, clawing at her chest and sending pain spiraling through still-healing broken fingers.

"Are we having fun yet?" he laughed, glaring at Dean threateningly. "You're going to say yes, Dean."

"Just kill us," he groaned. He wouldn't. He would not agree to be some kind of meat suit for an angel that promised armageddon. And certainly not because the angels wanted it.

"Kill you?" Zachariah clicked his tongue, stepping forward. "I'm just getting-"

He was interrupted when there was a bright flash of light and a scream followed by the sound of a body slumping to the ground. He spun around, shocked at the sight of one of his two angel companions on the ground with a hole in his throat spilling blood at his feet.

Castiel had barely a moment before the other one was on him. His blue eyes blazed as he fought viciously to overpower the other angel, eventually succeeding when he slammed the angel into the ground and impaled him in the back with his blade.

Alex made a rasping sound, unable to breathe as spots danced in her vision. Sam swore when she slumped to the ground.

Castiel freed his blade and prowled closer to Zachariah, who stared him down with shock. "How are you…"

"Alive?" Castiel lifted his chin a little. "That's a good question. How did those two," he paused to jerk his chin in the direction of the Winchesters, "end up on that airplane? Another good question. Because the angels didn't do it. I think we both know the answer, don't we?"

"No," Zachariah denied. "That's...not possible."

"It scares you." Castiel's eyes flickered with a look that Dean couldn't explain. "Well, it should. Put them back together and leave. I won't ask twice."

Dean was outright shocked when Zachariah vanished without complaint. The pain in his gut vanished and Sam swore, crawling on his hands and knees to where Alex was heaving desperately for air, sucking in oxygen in a rush. She choked, coughing, and he murmured, "Slowly, don't try to breathe too fast-"

"You three should be more careful," Castiel said, looking between them. His gaze landed on Alex and guilt flashed over his face before he looked back at Dean as he spoke. "Lucifer is circling his vessel, and once he takes it, those hex bags won't be enough to protect you."

"Bloody hell," Alex rasped, rubbing her chest with her good hand. Her bandaged face was slicked with blood from wounds that had reopened and soaked through bandages. Castiel noticed and didn't hesitate to step forward, slightly resting his fingers over her heart. The pain and wounds vanished immediately and she sputtered at the strange feeling that tore through her chest. "The bloody hell do you think you're-"

"I am...regretful of the part I played in your brother's death," Castiel murmured, cutting her off. She fell silent, not saying a word as she stared at him. "He is with his family now."

Alex blinked back tears that welled unbidden. "Thank you," she breathed.

Castiel turned his attention onto the Winchesters and without prompting, placed his hands on their chests. Both yanked back a moment later. "What the hell was that?" Dean nearly snarled, startled.

"An Enochian symbol. It'll hide you from every angel in creation, including Lucifer," Castiel explained. Sam nodded slowly, seeing the well-meaning behind the action, but Dean demanded to know if they had been branded with it. "No," Castiel said, puzzled with his attitude. "I carved it into your ribs."

"Cas," Sam cut in before Dean could raise his voice in outrage, "were you really...dead?"

"Yes." He didn't deny it.

"Then how are you back?" Dean asked, blinking a few times in confusion. Alex opened her mouth to agree, but before their eyes, Castiel vanished, and they were left alone, surrounded by the dead.

* * *

Alex watched the doctor bolt from the hospital room and ran a hand through her hair. She was perched on the edge of Bobby's hospital bed, Dean and Sam leaning against nearby walls and watching with worried looks that Alex was sure she mirrored. "Can you believe that yahoo?" Bobby muttered.

"Screw him," Dean told him, "you'll be fine."

Alex's throat tightened at the dark look in Bobby's eyes. She'd explained about Avery and Matt when he'd asked where Avery was upon seeing Alex around. It had been what set off his mood, followed by being told he wouldn't likely be walking again. Despite Dean's comment...she was sure he wouldn't, and it killed her on the inside to admit it.

"So," Sam said, directing their attention away to something else. "Let me ask the million-dollar question. What do we do now?"

Alex ran her fingers along the sheet, her face grim. She was so, so tired. She just wanted to curl up in the corner and never wake up. "We save as many people as we can," she murmured.

"It's bad," Bobby muttered. "Whoever wins, Heaven or Hell, we're boned."

"What if we win?" Dean challenged fiercely. It earned him looks from the other three, and he explained, "I'm serious. I mean, screw the angels and the demons and their apocalypse. Hell, if they want to fight a war, they can find their own planet. This one's _ours_. I say they get the hell off of it. We take 'em on. All of them. We kill the devil and if we have to, we kill Michael. But we do it our our own damn selves."

"And how are we supposed to do all of this, genius?" a cranky Bobby snapped.

"I got no idea, but what I do have is a GED and a give-'em-hell attitude, so I'll figure it out."

Alex shook her head, lips twitching a little as Bobby told him, "You're nine kinds of crazy, boy."

Dean moved over and gently patted his shoulder. "You stay on the mend, Bobby, we'll head out to do some work. We'll see you in a bit." He headed for the door and Sam paused to let Alex go after him, her shoulders slumped, before following himself.

"Sam?"

Sam paused in the doorway and looked back at Bobby, who was giving him a long look, a conflicted expression on his face. "Yeah?"

"I was awake." Sam's heart twisted as Bobby spoke, looking at him with a cautious expression. Bobby rarely did so, but he chose his words carefully. "I know what I said back there. I just want you to know that was the demon talking. I ain't cutting you out of my life, boy. Not now, not ever. You hear me?"

Sam searched his eyes and felt a familiar burning that he shoved back. "Thanks, Bobby. Get some rest." Bobby waved him out with a scowl and he cracked a small grin before following Alex and Dean. He paused, hesitant to approach them when he caught up, his brows lifting.

Alex had her hands over her scarred face, looking shaken, and Dean had his head being, a frown on his face as he spoke quietly to her, his eyes darting to a few medical tools that had been left out by accident. A break in hospital protocol, Sam guessed. A scalpel, a syringe, even a set of forceps.

Sam took a long look at the skinwalker. He knew she was struggling, had been since before this. Partly his fault, he knew. She'd been struggling since well before now. But how bad had it gotten that she couldn't even walk past a scalpel without breaking down?

Simultaneously, he wondered when the hell Dean had taken it upon himself to make sure she was all right.

Clearing his throat, Sam pushed himself forward. Dean looked a little relieved that they could finally get moving and put a hand on her shoulder, pushing her forward. She stumbled, but moved on.

Thinking it might be better to distract Alex from whatever he'd missed, Sam said slowly, "You know, I was thinking. Maybe we could go after the Colt."

Alex said nothing, but Dean looked at him with a bewildered look. "Why? What difference would that make?"

"Well," Sam began, "we could use it on Lucifer. I mean, you just said back there-"

"I just said a bunch of crap for Bobby's benefit," Dean spat, sounding bitter. He stopped just outside the doors of the hospital, his shoulders tight. Alex said nothing, eyes darting tiredly between the two Winchesters. "I mean, I'll fight. I'll fight until I can't fight anymore, but let's at least be honest. We don't stand a snowball's chance and you know that. I mean, hell, you of all people know that."

"Dean…" Sam murmured, disbelieving. He watched Dean for a long moment as he watched his brother open the trunk of the Impala, eyeing the area for anyone who might see the assortment of guns and other such weaponry. "Is there something you want to say to me?"

Alex sighed heavily and went to climb into the car, muttering, "Leave me out of the drama, boys, I've had enough."

Sam tried to not be offended that his brother clearly had more sympathy for the skinwalker. He let her slam the door shut before he went off. "I tried, Sammy. I just...can't keep pretending that everything's going to be fine, because it's _not_. And it's never going to be. I know how sorry you are about what happened, man, but you were the one I depended on the most. And you let me down in so many ways that I can't even...I'm just having a hard time forgiving and forgetting here, you know?"

Sam pressed his lips together, watching Dean for a long moment. The next words that left Dean's mouth hurt him in a way that tore deep.

"I just don't think I can trust you."

* * *

 _Yay for an update! I hope I can get the next chapter up sooner._

 _Thanks to the lovely reviewer (Asia Saunders) as well as all those who favorited and followed!_


	32. Good God, Y'all

_Just a quick minor warning. Not the best thinking on Alex's end further ahead._

* * *

"Bobby, would you like me to eat something?" Alex said gently, not daring to touch the older hunter's shoulder. She'd tried that before; he'd smacked her away hard enough to leave a mark. She hadn't been upset, but it had been enough to warn her from doing so again.

He didn't respond. She tried again, adding that he really should eat, and from where they stood in the doorway watching Alex's weak attempts at taking care of someone else when she could barely get a good night's sleep, Sam and Dean exchanged a grimace.

"It's been like three days now," Dean muttered. "We gotta cheer him up. Maybe I'll give him a back rub." Sam gave him a look. "Well? What then?"

"We might have to wrap our heads around the idea that Bobby might not bounce back this time," Sam said quietly, running a hand through his hair. Alex threw him a glare over her shoulder, her blind eye making him flinch. It was different now, looking at her. There were new scars that had nearly taken her eye out. He felt guilty; she was always catching him staring. Dean barely seemed to notice.

But there was other things that he noticed, too. The way one wrong move had her skittering back like a frightened deer, how some nights she'd wake up with a choked sound in her throat, how she stared blankly at nothing some mornings after a fitful night. She very rarely was free of dark shadows beneath her eyes.

Sam wasn't blind, and he _knew_ Dean wasn't either. But it still shocked him whenever Dean would bend towards her to ask her something. He kept up the cocky attitude, insulting her as often as he had before, but...he did it differently. Insulted her in a way that sounded more like encouragement, if that even made sense.

It pissed Sam off. Why could Alex, a skinwalker who'd been possessed by a demon - and very well still might be, since she hadn't let them throw any holy water over her - be trusted, but he couldn't? Then again, Alex hadn't purposefully waltzed off with a demon, which might have been why…

"What's in the envelope?" Sam asked suddenly, gesturing for the envelope in his brother's hand. Dean grimaced and opened it, handing over some X-rays.

"Went to radiology and got some glamour shots," he informed Sam, and they both gave the images of Dean's ribs with bewildered eyes. "Let's just say the doctors are baffled."

Sam ran his finger over one of the ribs, studying the Enochian writing. "What the hell?"

"Just think of it this way. Cas carved you one, too," Dean told him.

Sam's phone chose that moment to ring. He handed the X-rays back and Dean shoved them into the envelope as Sam answered the ringing phone, turning away for a few moments. "Ah, St. Martin's Hospital. Why? What are you - Cas?" He grimaced and hung up as he looked back. He made a helpless gesture when Dean looked at him curiously. Alex abandoned her efforts and came to join them, her gaze wary.

"He's not going to eat," she informed them and then jumped when Castiel suddenly spoke from beside her.

"Thank you. You're hidden from angels now. I won't be able to simply find you anymore." His crystal clear gaze flicked sullenly over Alex for a moment, both sympathetic and suspicious before turning back on the Winchesters. He opened his mouth to say something more, but was cut off.

"Enough foreplay." They all looked over in surprise as Bobby stared at the angel, his face full of malice. Alex pressed her lips together; she'd been working for hours to get a response. And here came Castiel, getting one immediately! "Get over here and lay your damn hands on me. Get healing. Now."

No one moved and Castiel's expression didn't change as he said curtly, "I can't."

Bobby spun his wheel chair around, bristling. "Say again?"

With caution, Castiel approached Bobby. His hands hung limply at his sides as he looked down at him and said quietly, "I was cut off from Heaven and much of Heaven's power. Certain things I can do. Certain things I can't."

"You're telling me," Bobby breathed, not tearing his eyes from the angel, 'that you lost your mojo just in time to get me stuck in this trap the rest of my life?"

"I'm sorry," Castiel said almost gently.

"Shove it up your ass," was the snarled response he received. Bobby turned back to the window he'd been looking at.

"At least he's talking now," Alex said bitingly, her face irritable. Bobby shouted that he heard her as Castiel rejoined the trio, his blue eyes troubled. "What's up, Cas?"

"I don't have much time," he told them. "We need to talk." Dean gestured for him to get a move on then. "Your plan to kill Lucifer."

"Want to help?" Dean looked almost excited by the prospect of having him join in.

"No," Castiel said bluntly, looking incredulous. As if the idea was stupid and horrific. "It's foolish and can't be done."

"Thanks for the support," Dean muttered, folding his arms.

"But," Castiel continued as if he hadn't made an input, "I believe I have the solution. There is someone besides Michael strong enough to take on Lucifer." Alex glanced at him, growing wary as she saw the excitement glittering in his gaze. "Strong enough to stop the Apocalypse. The one who resurrected me and put you on that airplane. The one who began everything. I'm going to find God."

Alex opened her mouth, skeptical that such a thing was possible. She closed it after a moment, unsure if she'd heard him right. After a long moment of silence between all of them, Dean cleared his throat and said slowly, "God?" Castiel nodded. "God."

"Yes!" Alex didn't think she'd ever seen him so enthusiastic about anything. "He isn't in Heaven. He has to be somewhere."

Dean snorted. "Try New Mexico. I hear he's on a tortilla."

"No," Castiel replied, puzzled, "he's not on any flatbread."

"Dean," Alex warned, although she snickered at Castiel's response, but he continued with a scoff.

"Listen, Chuckles," Dean told Castiel with a slight grin. "Even if there is a God, he's...he's either dead, and that's the generous theory, or he's up and kicking and doesn't give a rat's ass about the rest of us." Castiel glowered at him furiously. "I mean, look around you, man. The world is in the toilet. We are literally at the end of days here, and he's off somewhere drinking booze out of a coconut."

"Enough," Castiel practically snarled, furious. "This is not a theological issue. It's _strategic_. With God's help, we can win."

"It's a pipe dream, Cas," Dean retorted.

Alex flinched when the angel suddenly got in Dean's face, his expression murderous. "I killed two angels this week. My brothers. I am hunted. I rebelled." His eyes were alight with a flame of which Alex had never seen. "And I did it, _all of it_ , for _you_. And you _failed_. You and your brother destroyed the world and I lost _everything_. For nothing. So keep your opinions to yourself."

Clearing her throat, the skinwalker touched Castiel's arm. He yanked away, still surprisingly angry, but relaxed when she flinched, looking almost apologetic. "You couldn't have just dropped in to yell at us," she murmured. "What do you need?"

"An amulet." He furrowed his brow, cocking his head a fraction as he studied her. She asked what kind. "Very rare. Very powerful. It burns hot in God's presence and will help me find him."

"I'm sorry, Cas, we don't have anything like that," she admitted.

"I know. You don't." he reassured, awkwardly patting her head. She looked shell-shocked, looking desperately for Sam on instructions for what to do, but the younger brother looked just as stunned as he was. Castiel's gaze turned irritable again when he looked at Dean. Dean blinked when his gaze locked on something, following it.

"What, this?" Dean said, lifting a necklace he wore. The small head on it was grimy from age, and Alex immediately ripped her gaze away. She remembered that necklace well. She'd never forget lifting it from Dean's cold dead body.

"May I borrow it?" Castiel requested. Dean glared and shook his head. "Dean. Give it to me."

After a long silence, Dean huffed and yanked it off. He was careful not to snap the cord. "All right, fine." He held it out. Castiel reached for it, but he suddenly yanked back. "Don't lose it, Cas. It's important."

"I won't," he vowed, blinking as he finally took it in his hands.

"Great," Dean declared when he had, "now I feel naked." Alex gave him an exasperated look.

"I'll be in touch," Castiel promised them and then disappeared after shooting Alex a final sympathetic look. She looked beyond confused by his behavior, but said nothing, only arched a brow as Bobby shouted, "When you find God, tell him to send legs!"

"I don't think God can do that, Bobby," Alex muttered under her breath. Dean nodded his agreement upon overhearing her, but Sam only shook his head at the two, still puzzled as to why they were suddenly getting along so well. He eyed them suspiciously before looking back when the ringing of a phone filled the air. Alex and Dean looked over, too, both curious as Bobby answered.

"Hello?" he mused. "I can't hear you," he added a moment later. A pause. "Where are you?" Another. "Colorado? River Pass, Colorado?" Another pause. "Rufus? You there? Rufus?"

From where she stood, Alex heard the gunshots over the line and went white.

* * *

From where she was sprawled out comfortably in the backseat of the Impala, Alex said softly, "I'm done."

"Huh?" Sam questioned, pausing mid-type on his phone to look over his shoulder. Dean glanced in the rear view mirror. Both were confused, and their confusion only grew when Alex suddenly sat up and began to pry open the Impala door despite the fact that they were going near sixty on an open road near the Rockies.

"Alex!" Dean barked, immediately hitting the breaks.

"I'm done," she repeated, climbing out. The pair of Winchesters sputtered. Sam managed to get out and start chasing after her first as she began to walk back the way they'd come.

"Alex," he began, "what are you doing?"

"I'm _done_ ," she repeated, this time in a shout. She kept walking. Dean hovered by his Baby, not daring to leave it alone when they were on their way to a possibly danger-infested area. They needed an escape, after all. "I can't do this anymore!"

"Do _what_?"

And suddenly, she was storming back towards him. Sam staggered back when she jabbed him sharply in the chest. The extra ounce of strength sent him stumbling. "I'm _done_. I can't handle you two anymore. Everywhere you go, I'm surrounded by...by demons and angels, and I'm _done_!" She threw her hands in the air. "I was fine until I started working with you! I rarely ran into demons and when I did, it was one, and I could handle it. Now I'm chasing down the bloody devil, and it's because of you two he's walking loose! I'm done."

"Where did this come from?" Dean called, watching warily and listening to the shouting. "You were literally fine five minutes ago!"

Not that either he or Sam had room to talk; they'd stopped the car and fought for lesser reasons.

"I was thinking!" she snarled back. "That's where it came from. If I hadn't joined with you bloody morons, my brother wouldn't be dead and…" She gave a hysterical laugh. "I don't even _know_ where to start looking for Ryss' and my nieces' bodies! Or Avery's!" Another giggle bubbled out of her.

Sam pressed his lips together, unsure of how to respond. Finally, he just reached out to grab her shoulder, intending to give it a reassuring squeeze, but she yanked away, laughter turning into sobs.

"I can't sleep," she sobbed, "I can't turn around without thinking there's someone there with a knife, and it's going to cut me again. I can't sleep. I can't sleep." She buried her face in her hands, shaking. "I just want to sleep."

Sam looked truly worried now. Everyone had noticed her lack of sleep; it was hard not to when she looked as if she supported two black eyes. It looked, however, as if she'd snapped mentally, and Sam wondered if they should summon Castiel, if only to take her back to someone who could keep an eye on her. He finally grabbed her shoulder and drew her closer, hand gentle. "C'mon," he muttered. "You can sleep in the car. Dean's got somethin' in the back you can take to help you sleep." So did he.

Sometimes, the nightmares were horrific.

"Okay," she rasped, looking utterly defeated. She let him guide her back towards the vehicle, where Dean was all ready pulling open the trunk. He exchanged a quiet look with Sam. He didn't trust him, but they were both in agreement that the situation with the skinwalker was getting worse.

"Here," Dean said gruffly a few moments later, coming around the car. She had been pushed into the back seat gently, and sat half out, head in her hands. He had a bottle of water in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other. He squatted in front of her, dumping out a few to knock her out for a while, but not too many as to knock her out permanently. He pressed them into her hand and then passed her the water bottle. "Take a nap. We'll wake ya when we get there."

She looked blankly at the water bottle for a few moments before muttering, "I want the whole bottle."

Dean tucked the rest of them safely in his back pocket and said wryly, "Not gonna happen, mutt." He ruffled her hair as he straightened, waiting patiently for her to take the pills he'd given her. When she had, she handed the water bottle back and then crawled further into the back seat. When she'd curled up on the side, he slammed the door shut and then exchanged a quiet look with Sam once more.

Both wished that Bobby wasn't stationed in a hospital for the time being; it would have been good to leave Alex with him. But, he was, which meant they had to deal with an over-emotional skinwalker who didn't know what to do with herself in the meantime.

Running a hand down his face, Dean climbed back in the driver's seat and muttered, "Ugh."

* * *

After an eventful realization that they'd have to hike in - a bridge had collapsed and was the only way in or out by car - the Winchesters gathered some guns, woke Alex, who was still sleepy enough even after a few hours that she could barely walk, and started the hike into town. After a short while, Sam finally gave up and just shoved everything at Dean before offering the woman a piggyback ride.

She called him a twat, told him that she didn't want help from _him_ , who'd let her down several times, and then let him carry her anyways when he looked at her with hurt.

It took them a while of walking, but finally, they made it into town. River Pass, Colorado, Dean recalled, studying it. There was no sign of anyone out and about, and Dean lifted a brow at the sight of a car on its roof in the middle of a street. "Good thing I left Baby outside town limits." He'd hated it at first. Now…

Sam set Alex down and pressed a handgun into her fingers. They were still a little crooked. She didn't notice as she wordlessly made sure it was ready and set to be fired if need be. Her blue eyes glimmered with lack of interest as she watched Sam check his shotgun before starting forward again.

They checked a few cars, and Dean stopped to investigate a beautiful red Mustang, shiny as can be with no sign of destruction about it. He whistled when he looked it over, and then went back to work, silently scanning the street and ordering Alex to keep close.

Once, she would have stalked off, capable of defending herself.

Now she merely blinked and agreed with a slow nod.

They had just investigated a hole in a massive vehicle's windshield when Alex caught the sound of footsteps followed by a gun cocking. She snapped around, gun up and Dean and Sam whipped around, too, readying their guns-

" _Ellen_?" Sam sputtered, lowering his shotgun with a startled look.

"Hello, boys," a woman responded. Alex studied her quickly. She practically screamed "hunter", with a fierce look on her face, her dark hair wild around it, and her brown eyes unflinching. Alex growled low in her throat and Sam leaned in quickly, warning her not to let on what she was. Alex gave him a look; did he really think she cared at this point?

"Ellen," Dean said, pleased that she was there, "what the heck's going on around here?"

She responded by splashing him with water from a flask, and he sputtered. Alex admittedly smirked a little; the guy was destined to be soaked with holy water in his life, apparently. She recalled that Bobby had done the same when he'd come back from the dead once upon a time. After a moment in which Dean promised that they weren't possessed, Ellen wordlessly lowered her gun and stalked past them. Sam and Dean exchanged looks, but then were scrambling when Alex simply sauntered after the woman.

Ellen led them to a church nearby, and Alex eyed it suspiciously, faltering at the threshold to wait for the Winchesters as she took in the devil's traps and salt lines with a nod of approval. Dean shoved Sam forward when he was too slow, and he tripped, grumbling as he stumbled and caught himself. Alex slid in after them, skirting around the trap with care to avoid messing it up.

Ellen spun around when they were inside, yanking Dean down for a hug. "Real glad to see you boys," she muttered, pulling back. And then she outright slapped him.

Alex snorted in amused alarm when she scolded him. "You can't even pick up the phone? What are you, allergic to giving me peace of mind? I got to find out that you're alive from Rufus?"

"Sorry, Ellen," Dean muttered and Sam nodded hastily.

"Yeah, you better be. Better put me on speed dial, kid." Ellen looked at Alex now, studying the tired skinwalker with care. "Who's this? Don't recall you boys having a tagalong."

"Ellen," Sam introduced, smiling at her. "This is Alex Montgomery. Alex, this is Ellen Harvelle."

"Montgomery...have I heard that name before?" Ellen looked thoughtful before shrugging as she turned to lead them inside. "This way, boys." She showed them to a basement door and began to descend the stairs.

"What's going on, Ellen?" Dean asked.

"More than I can handle alone," Ellen admitted.

"How many demons?" Alex asked softly, her accent sharpened despite her volume. Dean glanced at her questioningly and she pointedly tapped her nose and shook her head, earning her a puzzled look. What the hell did _that_ mean?

"Pretty much the whole town minus the dead and these guys." She stopped at a door that reminded Dean of the bunker back at Bobby's house. "So...this is it, right? End of times?" Sam and Dean exchanged a look as she said, "It's got to be." She knocked on the door and called, "It's me."

It took a long moment before someone opened the door. As soon as the group of four had slid in, the door was shut and locked by a man holding a rifle. Ellen waved to the trio that she'd brought with her. "This is Sam, Dean, and Alex. They're hunters...they're here to help."

The man who'd opened the door eyed them. "You guys hip to this whole demon thing?"

"Yeah," Dean confirmed, "are you?"

A man further in the room murmured so softly that only Alex heard him, "My wife's eyes turned black. She came at me with a brick. Kind of makes you embrace the paranormal." Despite the exhaustion on her face, Alex's eyes softened with sympathy.

When he didn't receive a direct answer, Dean looked at Ellen. "Catch us up."

Ellen shook her head. "I doubt I know much more than you. Rufus called and said he was investigating omens. All of a sudden, the entire town was possessed. Me and Jo, we were nearby-"

"Jo?" Dean cut in and something in his tone had Alex studying him. "You're hunting with Jo?"

"For a while now." Her lips twitched before she continued. "We got here, and the place was like you see it. Couldn't find Rufus, then me and Jo got separated." Fear for whoever Jo was raced across her expression and Alex felt sympathetic. The poor woman was clearly frantic, though she didn't show it. "I was out looking for her when I found you."

"Don't worry," Dean reassured, patting her shoulder. "We'll find her."

"Either way," Sam said, nudging Alex gently. She realized she'd been staring at the two curiously and clearly averted her eyes, instead looking up at the youngest Winchester. "These people can't just sit here. We've got to get them out now."

"It's not that easy," Ellen denied, her gaze fierce. She flicked it between the trio before her. "I've been trying. We already made a run for it once." Sam looked at her questioningly and she lowered her voice, "There used to be twenty of us."

A chill ran down Alex's spine and she straightened. "There's four hunters now, and I'm an added bonus-"

"I don't know what that means," Ellen cut in and Alex grimaced when Dean and Sam outright glared at her for daring to try and mention what she was. That was a bad idea when they were surrounded by people who would kill what was of the other world they battled against every day in an instant. "But you don't know what it's like. There are demons everywhere. We won't be able to cover everyone."

"What if we get guns for them all?" Sam suggested, giving Alex a warning look. She glared back at him. Something was clawing at her mind, urging her forward. She wanted to leave, go and curl up in the darkest corner of the earth and wither away into nothing, but-

There was no sulphur.

 _There was no demons_.

But Sam continued, clearly unable to read her thoughts. "More salt we can fire at once, more demons we can keep away. There's a sporting goods store we passed on Main on the way in. I be they've got guns."

"I'm going," Alex said before they could say anything. If she could get one "demon" on its own, maybe she could clear everything up.

"I thought you wanted out?" Dean muttered, and she curled her lip at him. "Ellen, if Jo and Rufus are out there, we'll find them." The man who'd opened the door did so once more and without questioning anyone further and ignoring Ellen when she protested, they ducked out.

But before they could ascend the stairs that would take them into the church, Dean said, "Why don't I go alone?"

" _Alone_?" Alex huffed. "Are you bloody insane?"

"No, I'm not crazy," he muttered, not tearing his eyes from Sam. "You're a mess and someone's got to stay here and start giving them Shotgun 101, Sam."

"Yeah," Sam argued, eyes blazing, "Ellen." He shoved past him, but Dean caught his arm to stop him. Alex growled unhappily. "Dean!"

"It's gonna go a lot faster if you stay and help them," he insisted. "I can handle it, Sam."

"You don't want me going up there," Sam breathed in realization, hands beginning to shake in anger. "You don't want me around demons." Scoffing in disgust, he yanked free and stormed upstairs. "Let's go."

Dean and Alex watched him go. After a moment, Alex hesitantly grabbed Dean's arm and murmured, "Dean-"

He angrily stormed after his brother without a word, leaving her to scamper after them or remain behind.

She chose to accompany them, too exhausted to fight about where she wanted to go.

* * *

The trip into the outside world was surprisingly uneventful. Alex chose to go with Dean, not in the mood for Sam's overall crabbiness, although she supposed she wasn't much better. By the end of the trip, however, they'd found Sam looking at bloodied dead men with curiosity, and a chill had gone down Dean's spine. Alex had rumbled unhappily in her throat, muttering under her breath about sulphur.

When they'd returned to the church, they got to work. Together, the Winchesters, Ellen, and Alex showed them what to do with the weaponry and how to assemble shotgun shells full of salt. Originally, Alex had been fumbling with a gun, showing a man named Roger how to handle it, but Sam had taken it away when she'd shown a little too much interest in the clicking of the trigger and had dropped it a few times, her hands shaking a little.

So, she left Sam and Ellen to work with the people, instead turning her face towards where Dean was speaking quietly with a man. Her sharp ears caught what he was saying and rather than feeling sympathetic, she found herself angry. This man may have been to war, but he'd not seen what they had.

She kicked her feet against the ground as she strode over to a corner and slouched down, stretching her legs out in front of her. A pregnant woman watched her warily, as if _knowing_ , but Alex said nothing, only rested her scarred face against her knee and closed her eyes.

"You good?"

Alex opened her eyes a few minutes later, half-asleep all ready. "Yeah," she said after blinking and realizing Dean was squatted in front of her. He arched a brow. "I'm fine," she insisted. "Just...tired."

"Really? 'Cause you kind of lost it earlier."

She huffed, shooting him a glare. She lost the harsh look after a moment. "Yeah. I know." She yawned. "I haven't been able to sleep and it got to me. And every time I turn around, I feel like someone's about to stab me in the back - literally and figuratively. And I...I keep tasting Matt's-" She cut herself off, shaking her head, and her hair brushed her cheeks.

"You should have said somethin'," he told her. His green eyes narrowed a fraction.

"Since when did you honestly care about what I felt like?" she said quietly, amused.

He looked a little annoyed by the comment, but instead of making a retort, he told her, "You're not the only one who has nightmares, you know."

"Yeah. I know. But I don't want to talk about them anymore," she added sharply before jerking her chin in the direction of Ellen, who'd suddenly stood. Her eyes narrowed when Ellen announced that she'd be back.

Dean stood, furrowing his brow, and Sam looked up from where he was working. "Where you going?" Dean demanded, a little concerned.

Ellen gave him a long look. "I can't sit here on my ass. My daughter's out there somewhere. I'm not back in half an hour, go. Get these people out of here."

Alex climbed to her feet and trailed after Dean like a lost puppy when he approached the older woman. Sam met them halfway there and stood before her with his brother and Alex, sharing a worried look with him. After a moment in which they realized that Ellen would go whether they wanted her to or not, Sam decided, "No, wait. I'll go with you."

"Hold on," Dean said sharply. He narrowed his eyes at Sam. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Alex groaned. "Men," she muttered as they slipped out of the safe area to talk in private. Ellen looked after them with concern, and Alex looked over at her when she suddenly spoke.

"You after Dean?" she said suddenly.

Alex choked on spit and sputtered, flustered. "Bloody _hell_ , no. He's a twat." Ellen looked a little confused, so Alex explained carefully, "I'm not interested. I like them, but not...I'm not looking for a relationship. Not now. Not that Dean would ever be interested, honestly." Alex snorted, entirely amused with the idea now that the shock had disappeared. "I'm a skinwalker," she added quietly. Ellen seemed like a good person. She felt that she was trustworthy. "And he'd never want anything like that with someone who isn't one hundred percent human."

Ellen looked shocked by the declaration of what she was, but rather than running for a weapon, she grinned and said, "I think you'd be surprised," before suggesting, "Would you like to join me? It might help to have a skinwalker's nose."

Alex nodded. "Yeah. Thank you. I'll grab some weapons." She turned away - just as Dean stormed in. Ellen looked to him expectantly while Alex slid away to grab various weaponry that they would need, touching her arm where her blade rested.

"He's waiting out there," he spat and said nothing more about the matter. When Alex came back, cradling weaponry in her arms, he paused, however, and demanded, "Where the hell are you going, puppy?"

Alex's lips twitched. "Back to insulting me, are we? I'm going with Ellen. She asked and I said yes."

Dean bristled and she lowered her voice, saying, "I'll keep an eye on him."

He was quiet for a few moments, and then nodded curtly, muttering, "Let me know if anything happens."

"I promise," she said with a smile, and then looked to Ellen, who took a shotgun from her arms and checked to make sure it was loaded.

"Hey." Dean's voice had Alex turning to face him, her brows lifting. He offered her a blade - the demon knife, she realized. She wasn't sure when he'd gotten it from Sam. "Just in case."

Alex's lips kicked into a small smile. "Thanks," she said, tucking it into her belt with care.

Ellen's gaze darted between the pair of hunters before her before glittering with amusement. "I'm sure," she drawled, "that what you said is true, Alex." Dean looked puzzled by her sarcastic comment, but Alex flushed a brilliant red and snapped at her to get a move on.

"The hell are they talking about?" Dean muttered to himself as Alex pushed Ellen right out of the room, wondering when they'd chatted enough to seem like old friends.

* * *

"Where's the last place you saw her?" Alex asked as she walked beside Ellen and Sam, her blue eyes scanning the town ahead of them. Her senses were going into overdrive, struggling to find sulphur - or, she supposed, searching for the lack of it.

"Up ahead," Ellen told them quietly. After a moment, she asked Sam, "What's up with you and Dean?" He faltered, but said nothing, not looking at her, and she continued. "It's hard not to notice how different things are between you guys these days, Sam." Still, he remained silent, refusing to answer. "Lot of bad road there, huh? What happened? Alex here come between you or something?"

Alex's jaw dropped. "Are you bloody serious?!" she demanded, exasperated.

Sam's lips quirked into a smirk before dropping. "Just...stresses of the job. You know how it is, Ellen. Kind of surprised you and Jo are hunting. Weren't you always claiming she couldn't hack the life?"

"She can't," Ellen muttered. "But if she's gonna do it anyway-"

"You want to keep an eye on her. Not bad," Alex murmured, thinking of her sibling and what she could have done to keep him from being killed. By herself, she added darkly, her gaze filling with self-hatred and grief. Her gaze suddenly locked on a coil of smoke coming from a chimney. "That chimney...look."

"Come on." Sam started for the house it belonged to without hesitation, not waiting to see if the two women followed. They jogged after him, struggling to keep up with his long legs. Sam ducked behind the building next door and Alex followed him hastily, peering around the corner to look through the window. Her nose wrinkled when she saw a demon just inside, watching the now empty street.

"We found base camp," Ellen said quietly.

"Demons don't get cold," Sam muttered, puzzled. "Makes you wonder what they're burning."

Alex opened her mouth as Sam stepped forward to investigate, but was cut off by a sudden new scent. She whirled around - just in time for Ellen to be grabbed from behind. Alex snarled and Sam whipped around, slamming the butt of his gun into the demon that had grabbed her. Alex lunged for a second, but was slammed into the wall by a massive possessed man behind her. A blonde woman pressed Ellen to the wall, her arm at her throat and a gun to her head.

"Jo," Ellen breathed, and then snarled, "Don't you hurt her-"

"Give my mom back, you black-eyed bitch!" Jo snarled in response, and Alex froze, bewildered, her mind racing. Lack of sulphur, being accused of being a demon, all of this! What did it-

Ellen miraculously shoved away and Alex went to work, shoving the man away from her with ease. She lashed out with a fist, catching him in the jaw. Ellen bolted. Alex went to run after her but paused when Sam suddenly hit the ground with a shout.

His eyes were wild despite the pain in them. " _Go_."

Alex took one look at the black-eyed "demons", memories of agonizing pain being wrought upon her, and fled.

* * *

Ellen didn't look back once as they ran for the church. She didn't stop to consider Alex's anxiety as she edged carefully around the devil's traps, not wanting to mess them up. She bolted down the flight of stairs when they appeared before her and Alex was right beside her when Ellen threw herself at the heavy door.

It took a moment, but the door finally opened and Ellen shoved her way in. Dean narrowed his eyes a little from where he'd stepped aside to let the women in. "Alex?" he questioned quietly when she doubled over to catch her breath. "Where's Sam?"

Alex shook her head, breathless. Ellen began chugging a bottle of water that a pregnant woman passed her, ranting, "They took him? Demons took him? Oh, god...what if they're in here? The demons?"

A man looked to Dean. "Could they get in?"

"No." Dean's face was hardened as he met Alex's gaze, furious. She was apologetic, shoving her guilt into her expression. She shouldn't have left, but the demons...the memories that accompanied the sight of black eyes...her body shuddered, nightmares refreshed. He looked as if he was going to leave as he grabbed a shotgun, but he stopped when he looked back and took note of all of the people watching him. Realization crossed his face. He set the gun aside. "Okay, we need to get a plan together." His gaze returned to Alex, unforgiving. "Tell me everything."

Alex stumbled over to a table, her blue eyes narrowed a little. She sank into a chair and Ellen joined her as she swallowed what was left of the water. Dean dropped into a seat across from them. Alex tried to not be bothered by the way the others gathered around, but was grudgingly accepting when they said nothing. "Dean," Ellen said finally, "one of 'em's in Jo. We have to get it out without hurting her. It called me a bitch," she added with a snort.

He arched a brow. "Bruise a little easy, don't you?"

"No," Alex rasped, shaking her head and catching his attention. She rested her chin on her fist, thoughtful. "That's not it, Dean. She called Ellen a black-eyed bitch."

"What kind of demons are these?" Ellen murmured, furrowing her brow as Dean considered this newfound information. "Holy water and salt roll right off. My daughter...she's not stupid, she wears an anti-possession charm. It's all kind of weird, right?"

"Get her tattooed," Alex said grimly, thinking of the own tattoo she had yet to get. "Charms do nothing. And something else," she added. "Winchester, they don't smell of sulphur. Whenever demons are around, I smell them. Jo...the people with her...they didn't smell like demons. In fact, I haven't smelled a single demon since coming to town."

"The whole thing's off," he admitted, rubbing a hand down his face.

"What's your instinct?" Ellen asked.

"My instinct?" He laughed. "Call Bobby and ask for help. Or Sam."

"Well, tough." Despite the situation, Ellen's eyes glimmered for a moment. "All you got's me and Alex, and all I got's you two. So let's figure it out. Together."

Dean let a large breath escape him. "All right."

She smiled faintly at him and he returned it only a little. Alex took a deep breath, still shaking just a little as Dean asked, "Do you know why Rufus came to town? Was there a specific omen?"

"He said something about water, that's all I know," Ellen replied.

Dean looked to Alex, but she shook her head after thinking it over.

"You know what she's talking about?" Dean turned his attention on the man who'd asked if the demons could get into the church. A pastor, Alex realized. "Do you know what she's talking about with the water?"

"The river," he said slowly. "Ran polluted all of a sudden." Ah, a real river then rather than something from the bible. Alex thought about it as another man spoke up.

"Last Wednesday. The demon thing started up the next day."

"That helps us, anything helps. Random things?"

"A shooting star," the second man said, "Same night. Real big. Wednesday."

"Definitely counts," Dean confirmed, standing up. He shuffled over to a bookshelf. When he came back, he had a bible in hand. Alex leaned over the table to watch as he began sifting through pages, sitting back down in his seat. When he found what he was looking for, he read aloud, "'And there fell a great star from Heaven, burning like a torch, and it fell upon the river, and the name of the star was Wormwood. And many men died.'"

The pastor blinked. "Are you saying that this is about the apocalypse?"

Alex was willing to tell him that it was exactly what it was about. She said as much and then asked, "The specific omens. What do they prelude to, sir?"

The pastor's lips quirked a little at his politeness. "The Four Horsemen."

Dean paused. Alex recognized the glint in his green eyes as he asked slowly, "And which one rides the red horse?"

"War."

Alex gasped. "That Mustang," she remembered, eyes darting up to meet Dean's. He nodded curtly; he'd been thinking along the same lines, he told her silently and then straightened.

"Think about it. If War is a guy and he's here, maybe he's messing with our heads."

"Turning us against each other," Ellen added in.

"Alex," Dean said, addressing the skinwalker. "You said there wasn't any sulphur anywhere?" Alex shook her head. "And Jo called you a black-eyed bitch, Ellen. They think we're demons, just like we think they're demons. What if there are no demons at all and we're all just killing each other?" Alex grimaced at the idea. It was horrific.

A sudden hammering on the door caught her attention, and Alex bristled, growling under her breath. Dean exchanged a look with Ellen. After a reluctant moment, he nodded and the man who'd brought up the star went to check and see who it was. He opened the door a moment later when the person on the other side shouted, "Open up! It's Roger!"

Roger burst into the room, heaving for air, eyes wild. "I saw them," he gasped without prompting, and Alex didn't bother to rise as exhaustion swept over her again. "The demons! They know we're trying to leave. They said they're gonna pick us off one by one."

Alex didn't respond, merely stared long and hard at the man before them. Her blue eyes were calculating as Dean rose to his feet with an alarmed sound escaping his lips. "Wait, what?"

"I thought you said no demons," the man at the door said accusingly.

"There's not," Alex said, accent sharp in her annoyance. "Where did you go?" Her gaze never left him, narrowed. She didn't trust this sudden crazed man.

"I thought someone should go out and see what's going on," Roger said angrily. "They're gonna kill us unless we kill them first!"

For some reason, that struck a chord in her, and Alex let loose a rumbling growl that had the pregnant woman near her recoiling in fear. Her blue eyes were sharp with suspicion and Dean took one look at her before becoming suspicious himself as he stared at Roger. "Hold on," he began, but he was cut him off.

"No, man," said the one at the door, "we got people to protect. All right, the able-bodied go hunt some demons." He grabbed the shotgun Dean had grabbed himself earlier, before the realization of what they'd found. He handed it to someone, and Dean stepped over, hands up. "Hold on, slow your roll. This isn't a demon thing."

Alex saw the action a moment before Roger spoke: a quick twist of the ring on his finger. "Look at their eyes!" he cried, pointing at the trio of hunters. "They're demons!"

Dean swore and shoved Ellen from her seat, pushing her head down when someone fired. Alex snarled, her teeth bared. She hurtled over the table when Dean gave a hasty gesture, shouting, "Go, go!"

But she paused. For just an instant, Alex eyed where a bullet had struck and wondered what it would feel like. As if sensing her thoughts, Dean swore again and grabbed her shoulder, tugging her closer so that he could duck her head as he bolted, half-dragging her behind him. "Move," he muttered, furious.

Alex shook her head, snapping her mind free of those thoughts, and for the second time that day…

She fled.

* * *

"Damn," Ellen said a short ten minutes later, her eyes locked on Alex. "No offense, but...weird as hell."

Alex threw her a look, ears flicking as Dean said, "Just don't pull a gun."

"Our plan," Ellen told him, "is going to get us killed."

"Better to go down fighting, and look at it this way. Jo's not gonna expect a dog to go waltzing through town right now. She'll be less likely to get attacked then we will. And she can lure them out without us getting shot." Dean knelt to Alex's level, and she lifted her chin, noting that he'd been doing this a lot lately. He met her blue gaze firmly, narrowing his own warningly.

"I catch you looking like you did earlier," he warned, and she knew precisely what he was talking about. He'd caught her twice within hours. "I'll chain you up in the trunk of my car, you hear me?"

Alex looked him in the eye and purposely sneezed all over his chest before turning away, lifting her tail in farewell. She knew better; now wasn't the time to be selfish. Alex left him cursing as Ellen chuckled. She made her way across the street, remembering other times she'd done this. It would work, she told herself. It always did.

She pretended to act like a dog, sniffing at the ground every now and then. She caught whiffs of something dark and snorted to clear her nose. That must have been War. She could practically smell the reek of blood and death on him, and she curled a lip in disgust.

She lifted her head, flicking her ears forward as she approached the house. When she reached the window beneath which she smelled the strongest of the woman she remembered attacking Ellen, Alex barked. Silence. So, she gave another bark. After a long moment, a man peered through the shattered window. Rufus, she decided, remembering Dean's description of him.

Alex gave a wolfish grin, beating her tail back and forth as she barked again. He narrowed his eyes at her and made a shooing motion. She only whined, squirming her body. She hoped Dean wasn't watching. The bastard would never let her live this down. She heard Jo call out for Rufus, asking what he was looking at, and she heard him explain.

 _"Distraction,"_ they'd told her she needed to be. So distract she would.

Jo joined Rufus at the window, brow furrowed. Their eyes were black, but Alex knew better. She caught sight of Dean and Ellen creeping around the building as she worked. Jo turned to leave, telling him to shoot a gun and scare her off. So Alex hopped up, using her size to scare them a little. Rufus reeled back and Jo huffed.

Alex noted Dean, crouched to avoid being noticed, getting closer and flicked her ear in acknowledgement. He would be coming to this window to grab Rufus and Ellen would sneak behind to get Jo. Alex was ready to help Ellen should she have to; she'd seen earlier just how strong Jo was. She whined and wagged her tail again, showing friendliness to Rufus. She eyed the shards of glass and narrowed her gaze a little.

Rufus' expression changed, suspicious. Alex remembered a split second later that he was a hunter, likely knew the ticks of a skinwalker, and swore in her mind as he reached slowly for what she suspected was a gun. Her hackles rose against her will and Dean chose that moment to ask. He lurched forward, reaching through the window and grabbing Rufus. As he hauled him through the broken window, Alex leaped out of the way, rumbling in her chest.

"Rufus!" Jo shouted.

Alex watched as Dean slammed Rufus in to the ground. She listened intently as Ellen began to shout at Jo, ordering her to "Listen up!" Her blue eyes stared intently at Rufus, ready to jump in if need be.

"Listen to me, Rufus," Dean said sharply as he knelt on his chest. "I'm not a demon. All of the omens, Rufus, _think_ -"

"Go to Hell," Rufus snarled, slamming his forehead against his. Dean reeled back with a yelp. Rufus followed it up with a fist to the jaw and he lunged for the gun he'd dropped. Alex leaped, landing squarely on him and baring her teeth in his face. He shouted, throwing hands up to protect his face as she let Dean kick his gun away.

"Rufus!" Dean tried again, giving Alex a look. She clamped her mouth shut but didn't move, keeping the man pinned. "The polluted water, the shooting star, the red Mustang. War! It's War, I'm telling you."

Alex yipped and cursed silently as she was cuffed sharply over the face with a brick that he'd managed to find somehow. Her scarred face dropped, a leg rising to press against the pain. Dean swore and tackled him when he tried to go for the gun again. Blood trickled from Dean's nose, and he swore when it dripped onto Rufus' face. "The Horseman!" he bellowed.

That caught Rufus attention. "Horseman?"

Dean wanted to laugh in hysterical relief. "Yeah. He's turning us against each other, Rufus, you're hallucinating."

"The Horseman," he repeated. "War."

Dean nodded, wary.

"Did you figure this out by yourself, genius?"

Despite everything that had happened in moments, Dean laughed and let him up, offering a hand. Rufus accepted the help, and then narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Alex, who lowered her leg to give him a nasty glare. The brick had _hurt_. She understood how people used them to knock someone unconscious. A nasty gash ran over her snout and Dean asked "You good? Gonna pass out?"

Alex shook her head and then stumbled to her feet, swiping her tongue over the cut with a grimace.

Another scar to add to her repertoire.

When everyone was set, they headed around to enter the house. Alex trotted along behind them, Rufus giving her a nasty look. "Since when did you acquire a skinwalker, boy?"

Alex curled a lip, but Dean glared until she dropped it. "Now's not the time," he warned him, and then entered the house. They burst into the room in which Jo and Ellen had been fighting in and from where she was standing, Ellen whirled around, leveling a shotgun at them. "Whoa!" Dean shouted, throwing his hands up, eyes wide.

"We're all on the same page?" she questioned. She waited until there were nods to lower her weapon. "Good."

"Hey, Jo," Dean greeted.

Jo stared at Alex. "Hey."

"Okay," Dean began, turning his attention onto bigger problems. "We gotta find War before everybody in this town kills each-" A gunshot went off and everyone dropped to cover their heads. Alex flared her nostrils. "Damn it! Where's Sam?"

"Upstairs," Rufus told him, swearing under his breath when he realized that Sam hadn't been possessed when they'd shoved salt down his throat.

Alex didn't hesitate. She threw herself forward, letting the others deal with their problems. She was part of the problem that had gotten Sam into the sticky situation, and for that reason, she ignored Dean's demand that she come back. She heard him shout a curse at her followed by his footsteps as he gave chase - and followed her to where his brother was.

Alex followed the familiar scent she finally came across and then sneezed to clear her nose, sniffing at the bottom of the door she found to drag in Sam's scent. When Dean caught up, he glared at her angrily, but pushed open the door with caution. Alex wagged her tail once when she found Sam before her.

"Dean, Alex," Sam gasped when he saw them, "It's not demons."

"It's War."

They paused, looking at each other. Dean and Sam had spoken in unison. Alex snorted, giving a cough that sounded suspiciously like a curt laugh. Ignoring her, Sam said urgently, "The ring. He's using the ring."

Alex's ears flicked. She remembered the way Roger had twisted the ring on his finger just a moment before the others had looked at she, Dean, and Ellen and seen demons. Dean muttered, clearly having seen the same thing she had, "The ring. That's right. He turned it right before he made everyone hallucinate and go hell-bitch."

Alex gave him a weird look, and then shook her fur out when Sam shot to his feet, freed from his bonds. "Right. Let's go," he added, and Alex didn't hesitate to throw herself out the door, abandoning the Winchesters as gunshots filled the air. She hit the bottom steps hard, ignoring the pain in her legs, and then threw herself outside without hesitation.

"People, cease fire!" Rufus was shouting, ordering people to stop shooting. Alex stopped in the middle of the street, head ducked as something raced through the air above her head. She caught sight of Rufus wrestling the gun out of a man's hands. She rolled her eyes when he slammed the butt of it over the man's head, knocking him out. "I'm getting too old for this."

A sudden scream filled the air. " _Father!_ "

Alex whirled around, wishing she had clothes so she could make some use of herself. The pastor had gone down, and a woman threw herself forward. She knelt over him, sobbing, and Alex saw Rufus run off to deal with the person who'd shot the pastor. Ellen, who'd come from who knew where, knelt beside the woman, pressing her hand over the pastor's gunshot wound. She looked up at Ellen in fear. Ellen said something that the woman reluctantly relaxed over, doing as Ellen said.

" _Alex_ ," Sam shouted as he barreled out of the house, racing down the street as the gunfire began to falter. "War!"

Alex inclined her head and shot after he and his brother, recognizing that the had more important things to worry about right now. It was somewhat sad, she supposed, keeping pace with ease. She bounded beside Dean, her tongue lolling out of her mouth and looking very dog-like as it did.

They were all out of breath by the time they found the red vehicle, and Alex shoved at Dean's leg, indicating with her nose. War was coming down the street, looking incredibly smug as he looked over his shoulder. Sam, heaving for breath, slid around the Mustang, ducking down. Dean swept around a corner. Alex slid into the shadows of another car, her teeth bared.

Dean held up a hand, preparing to signal as War approached the car. It was when he'd reached for the door that Dean did so, and Alex flung herself forward, using her shoulder to slam into the Horseman's legs. He bellowed as they buckled, and Sam and Dean didn't hesitate to grab him and slam him against the vehicle. Sam withdrew the demon knife, eyes blazing.

"That's a sweet little knife," War snorted, amused. "But come on, you can't kill War, kiddos."

"Oh, we know," Dean said smugly, slamming War's hand on the Mustang. Sam immediately acted, and Alex wondered if they'd had this planned, her nose wrinkling as the smell of blood filled the air. War's fingers fell to the pavement, the ring clinking loudly. Dean snatched up the ring and Sam, distracted, bent to look.

Alex merely stared at the sudden empty space beside them, hackles raised.

War had disappeared.

* * *

"I still think it's rude that we just outright disappeared on Ellen," Alex muttered, kicking her feet back and forth as she sat at a picnic table in the middle of nowhere with the Winchesters. They'd chosen to rest at an entrance to a hiking trail, and Alex took note of a truck that had been left there. Likely belonging to a couple of hikers who'd set out. She was trying to lighten the mood as Dean held up War's ring, looking curiously at it.

"She was busy helping people," Sam said gently.

"Which should be our jobs," Alex pointed out. Sam grimaced and looked away.

"So," Dean said, cutting in with a snicker, "should we make a pit stop at Mount Doom?"

"Now is not the time for Tolkien jokes," Alex muttered as Sam remained silent, staring at the table.

"Dean-" Sam began finally, addressing his brother for the first time.

Dean cut him off with a tight, "Let's not."

"Oh, here we go again," Alex whined, scowling at them both. She'd managed to finally get some sleep thanks to a few pills she'd taken on their way out of town. She'd curled up in the backseat, dozing. She looked much better, although still grumpy and half-ready to leave. She'd stopped looking so interested in guns and Dean had even given her her own gun back.

"No, listen," Sam said angrily. "This is important, Dean. I know you don't trust me." Alex grimaced when he threw her a look. "And let's be honest, Alex, you haven't trusted me since after...things happened."

Alex looked at her nails, as if she was worried they'd broke, saying nothing.

"That's fine," he said evenly, "I realized something. I don't trust me either."

Alex and Dean looked at him in surprise as he continued.

"From the minute I saw that blood," he said, referring to the men that he'd killed earlier, "I tell myself it's for the right reasons, my intentions are good, and it...it feels true. But, I think...underneath, I just miss the feeling. I know how messed up it sounds, which means I know how messed up I am. The problem's not the demon blood. I mean, what I did...I can't blame the blood, or Ruby, or anything. The problem's _me_. How far I'll go. There's something in me that scares the hell out of me." He locked gazes with his brother, and then Alex. "In the last couple of days...I caught another glimpse."

"So what are you saying, Winchester?" Alex said rather sharply, worried about the way he was talking. To be honest, he sounded like she had the other day when she'd stormed out of the Impala and down the road.

"I'm saying I'm in no shape to be hunting. I need to step back, 'cause I'm dangerous. Maybe it's best we just go our separate ways for now."

Alex looked at Sam for a long moment in horror. "Are you a bloody-"

"I think you're right." Dean's answer had Alex bristling, looking at him in shock.

"I was expecting a fight," Sam admitted.

Dean smiled just a little before saying quietly, "I spend more time worrying about you than doing the job right, Sammy. I can't afford that right now." Alex growled at him, and he pointed out, "You were saying the same thing he was not too long ago. What's got you changing' your mind?"

Alex took a deep breath and admitted, "Matt wouldn't want me to just...mope and cry. He'd want me to kill the bitch that did it to him."

"There you go," Dean said, waving at him. "Sam needs to make a similar realization on his own, right?"

"I'm sorry," Sam added, pressing his lips together unhappily.

Dean replied quietly as Sam stood swiftly, "I know you are, Sam." He watched for a moment, and then asked, "Do you, uh, wanna take the Impala."

"It's okay," Sam murmured, going to retrieve his bag from the Impala's trunk. When he was set, the bag shouldered, he paused to add, "You two take care of yourselves."

"You, too," Alex said softly while Dean said nothing in response. They watched in silence, sitting side by side as Sam managed to break effortlessly into the truck, and Alex realized it was why Sam had been so relentless about stopping here to rest. He'd been thinking about this for a while.

When Sam had driven off, she turned her face to Dean. "What about me?" she demanded. "Do you think I should go run off, too?"

To her surprise, Dean shook his head and grabbed his keys. "Come on," he mumbled, "I want to kill something."

* * *

 _No reviewers, but that's okay! Thanks for reading! Had some serious moments in here, didn't we? ;) On another note, I'm rewriting the first three chapters._


	33. Free to Be You and Me

"Are you done with that rag yet, Dean?" Alex, disgusted, spit blood into the sink. She couldn't tell if it was her blood or if it was the vampires. They'd dealt with a nest of vampires merely an hour beforehand, and she was somewhat bothered that he hadn't seemed to mind the idea of beheading them all. Then again, he'd had a somewhat personality change since Sam had left.

"I just picked it up." He rolled his eyes, running it under the sink. He awkwardly shoved his jacket off, aware that they'd both shoved themselves into the small motel room's bathroom. Alex seated herself on the toilet, not nearly as covered in blood as he was. He swiped at his neck with the damp rag, cleaning his face, and then handed it to her to let her at least get her face wiped off.

"Thanks." She did just that and then handed it back so he could get to work on cleaning his jacket before it stained. She'd miraculously managed to get only flecks. Not enough that it would ruin her clothes. And her leather jacket would clean with a bit of elbow grease.

They were quiet for a long moment. Alex watched him intently with sharp blue eyes before she turned her gaze on her nails, which had blood stuck beneath them. Blood, dirt, and who knew what else. After a silent minute, she drifted into her thoughts, enjoying the peaceful silence.

She wasn't entirely sure on what she was still doing with the eldest Winchester. Once upon a time, Dean would have leaped upon the chance to get rid of her. Yet now, he didn't seem to mind that she was still there, even had insisted upon it for that first hunt after Sam had left. She wondered if he just didn't want to be alone, but couldn't handle his brother for the time being. She understood that. And he hadn't been quite as rude as before, so she didn't mind.

Besides, Lucifer was out and about as were demons.

It was dangerous for hunters to be out and about on their own.

Alex froze when she heard the rustling of wings and then snapped her head up when Dean swore colorfully, slamming his hands on the counter as he huffed, "God, Cas." The angel had appeared behind him, and Alex snickered. It must have scared him. "Don't do that."

"Hello, Dean." Castiel responded pleasantly, then glanced at Alex. "Hello, Alex."

"Hey, Cas," Alex crooned, wiggling her fingers playfully as Dean turned. He grimaced at Castiel's proximity. He was only inches away. She grinned, saying gently, "Cas, I've explained this to you. Personal space, remember?"

"Oh." Castiel blinked. "My apologies." He stepped back from Dean, and Alex stood when he grabbed his jacket and strode out of the bathroom. She was careful not to step on carpet or go near the bed. There was still blood that hadn't dried, and she didn't want to mess anything up.

"How'd you find us?" Dean asked, glancing at him. "I thought we were flying below the angel radar." He touched his ribs in emphasis and Alex leaned against the doorway to the bathroom, watching silently. She folded her arms, scarred face unreadable.

Castiel was quick to reassure them. "You are," he said firmly. "Bobby told me where you were."

"Of course he did," Alex murmured.

He opened his mouth to speak again, then paused. Intelligent blue eyes scanned the room, taking in the lack of a third person "Where's Sam?" he suddenly questioned.

Alex shifted her gaze to Dean to see how he'd answer. Dean, shrugging his still-bloody jacket on, didn't look at Castiel. Instead, he said gruffly, "Me and Sam are taking separate vacations for a while. So," he added, finally looking over, "did you find God yet? More importantly, can I have my damn necklace back?"

"No," Castiel admitted, looking irritated about the matter. "I haven't found Him. That's why I'm here. I need your help."

"With what?" Alex asked, arching a brow. "We can't exactly hunt down God. Not when an angel can't even do it. My nose isn't that good, Cas."

"No, not God," Castiel replied, turning his attention on Alex since she appeared to be more helpful. He studied her gaze for a moment, and then added, "It's someone else." She arched a brow, waiting for him to explain. "An archangel. The one who killed me. His name is Raphael." He paused, studying Alex closely. "You may be of more use to me than Dean."

"Hey," Dean cut in, not pleased that he was being counted off so easily. "You want to explain how you were wasted by a teenage mutant ninja angel?"

Castiel blinked once, puzzled, and then shook his head in exasperation. He didn't understand such words, and Alex threw him a sympathetic look but didn't bother to explain. It wasn't of importance right now. "I've heard he was walking the earth," he told Alex, "and it leaves us with a rare opportunity for information."

Dean grunted as he strode back for the bathroom, rudely pushing past Alex roughly, "So...what?" He grabbed the weaponry and the cloth they'd used to clean their faces, holding the knife he'd used to behead vampires over the sink and scrubbing at it. "You think you can find this dude and he's just going to spill God's address?"

"Yes," Castiel said patiently. "Yes, because we're going to trap and interrogate him."

Dean's hand paused on the blade and Alex looked between he and Castiel. After a long moment, he turned back and gave Castiel an even look, shaking his head a little. "You're serious about this." He pushed the washcloth and knife into Alex's hands as he strode back towards Castiel. "So...what, we're just going to hold hands and sail off a cliff together?" Castiel looked just as confused as Alex felt. Alex furrowed her brow and looked at the bloodied cloth and blade in her fingers. Finally, Dean said roughly, glaring at Castiel, "Give me one good reason why we should do this, Cas."

"Because Alex is the Soldier," Castiel said almost smugly. "And you are Michael's vessel. No angels would dare harm either of you. God forbids it."

"We're not bullet shields," Alex told him gently, understanding why he felt as confident about this as he did. She wiped the cloth gently over the blade and Castiel looked back at her. "But I'll help you, Cas."

"Thank you," he said curtly, and then turned to look at Dean, saying quietly, "I need your help, Dean, because the two of you are the only ones who will help me. Please."

"Alright." Dean finally gave in and combed his hand through his hair. "But I don't like it."

"Great," Alex said cheerfully, tossing the bloody rag over her shoulder and into the sink. Her scarred face lit with excitement. Finally, something useful besides beheading creatures and trying to not think about the troubles between the Winchesters and their enemies! Sort of. She sauntered over to stand by the two men. "Where's this Raphael?"

Her curiosity earned her an almost dark look from Castiel. "That is for you to find out," he told her seriously. "Barachiel will know. He is an archangel as well."

Alex sputtered and Dean stared openly at Castiel as he demanded, "What?"

Castiel was puzzled. "You were not aware? It is common knowledge. If you were to research him-"

"I tried," Alex said, and then pointed at Dean when he turned a nasty look on her. "Hey, don't give me that look! If you're being stalked by an angel who's trying to take advantage of you, you try to look them up! I couldn't find anything. It was like the internet was wiped and I could never find his name in any book I picked up! No matter how heavenly it was."

"So here's our plan of action," Dean sighed, rolling his eyes. He began to tick it off in his hands, using his fingers to number his statements. "First, we summon Barachiel. We demand to know where Raphael is, figure out various pieces of information, yada yada yada." Alex looked puzzled by the phrase. "Then, we go and hunt down Raphael. Finally, we capture another archangel and figure out what information you want, Cas?"

Castiel thought over what Dean had said and then gave a curt nod. "That is correct." His gaze flicked briefly to Alex. "Do you know how to summon Barachiel, Alex?"

"Yeah." Alex shrugged, a suspiciously eager look in her sharp gaze. "He's easy enough. I think. If that doesn't work, we'll figure out something else." She sighed. "Let's be honest," she grumbled, "it doesn't matter what we do. An angel will show up at some point."

"What she said," Dean muttered.

Alex eyed the blood-covered Winchester for a few moments. "I think you should take a bath first, Winchester." She pushed a hand through her matted hair, showing off her blinded eye to the pair. Neither so much as flinched.

Instead, Dean smirked and told her, "You should look in the mirror some time, puppy."

* * *

Alex did take a shower, making the poor impatient Castiel wait longer than necessary when she made Dean take a shower, too. _"Do you really want blood getting all over Baby?"_ she'd taunted him. It had been enough encouragement. Now, she sat alone in the motel room with Castiel, waiting for Dean to finish up so they could summon the archangel in the parking lot before heading out to wherever they might find Raphael.

Alex felt a little guilty as she glanced at Castiel, who was peering at a bible he'd found in a drawer. She wanted to have a little...chat with Barachiel. She ran her fingers over the blade that rested invisibly against the inside of her arm. No, she realized, not a chat. But she wanted to know where he'd been as the demons tore her to pieces, as they pried her apart from the inside by demolishing her brother.

"You never tested," Castiel said suddenly, startling her out of her thoughts, "to see if you were still possessed."

Alex blinked, startled by the comment. She looked up and found him staring at her suspiciously. "...I guess we didn't. We were busy doing other things. So let's make it easy. Am I? I know you know if I am or not."

"No," Castiel admitted, furrowing his brow. He was puzzled. Again. She loved the poor guy's confused moments. It was adorable. "You're not still possessed. However, there is...something that concerns me." He cocked his head as Alex waited. "Residue of sorts. As if a demon tore a piece away and left it behind."

"Can you see it?" she asked curiously, honestly not caring whether or not that was the case.

"Yes." Castiel sighed softly, looking bothered as he added, "I cannot remove it. It would not end well."

"I'd say." Alex pressed her lips together, troubled. After a moment, she straightened. "I'm going to get the tattoo. Not now, of course, but...before I get possessed again. So that...so that it doesn't happen again." Her lips quivered a little. After a moment of hesitation, she asked, "Matt...he's in Heaven, right? And he's safe from angels and stuff? And Ryss and my nieces?"

Castiel looked alarmed by her question. Finally, he said gently, "I have been cut off from Heaven. But yes, just as I told you. The angels will not mess with souls that reside within Heaven." A pause. "At least, they likely won't. God would likely not approve."

Alex bit her lip, murmuring, "I wish you could check, but...thank you. It makes me feel better that you think so." She offered him a brief smile, her good eye shining with gratitude.

"You guys ready?"

Alex glanced over when Dean came out of the bathroom, wet hair spiked up in a wild fashion. He rolled his sleeves up as he reached for his socks and shoes, which had been set aside along with his gun. Alex's lips twitched a little. She thought it was interesting that guns were placed in such weird places.

The skinwalker stretched her arms above her head, wincing when it tugged at an old injury. "We're ready," she said calmly, pressing her lips together. Did she tell him about the "stain" Castiel had mentioned? She studied the angel out of the corner of her eye. Finally, she decided she would keep it hidden for now. Let them deal with finding Raphael, and then tell him afterwards. He'd throw a fit, probably, but she didn't honestly care at this point.

"Well then," Alex said. She tucked a gun loaded with iron bullets into the waist of her jeans. She stood, reaching for her black leather jacket. "Let's go summon ourselves a stupid archangel. I've been meaning to for a while." Her gaze glittered with malice. "I've got some words I'd like to have with the bloody bastard."

"Alex," Dean warned as he grabbed his own gun and did as she had with it. "Make sure we get Raphael's location out of him before you start trying to stab the guy, ya hear me?"

"Make me," was Alex's only response before she sauntered out of the room.

It didn't take long to set up the summoning ritual. Alex hummed to herself as she finished drawing with the chalk they kept in the Impala. Dean was bent over the open trunk, putting together the ingredients they needed. Castiel was watching them with a calm look on his face. Done, Alex picked up the chalk and tucked it into her pockets, thoughtful. "Did you get it all?" she called to Dean.

"Yeah," he grunted, holding the bowl aloft. "Got everything. Do you have the matches?"

"Yep." Alex waved them up in the air, showing them to him. He slammed the trunk shut and then carried it over. He offered it to her and she easily took it, planting it securely into the proper place on the symbol. She stood and then shifted her weight onto her other hip. "Are we ready?" she asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She glanced at Castiel when Dean gave a curt nod.

"...yes," Castiel said when he realized they were waiting for his answer.

"Alright, let's summon ourselves an archangel," Alex announced. She struck the match, murmuring words under her breath with an eagerness that, much to his surprise, worried Dean. When she was done, she stepped back, flinging the burning match into the bowl, and then immediately looked around, her fingers brushing over the inside of her arm. " _Alex_ ," Dean hissed.

"You summoned me?"

She whirled on her heel and stopped to stare at Barachiel. The archangel looked delighted to be there, hands clasped before him. He extended them with a warm smile to the angel who'd taken up a wary and defensive stance. "Ah, Castiel! It's been a while! Long time, no see. How have you been? Resurrected, I hear."

Castiel's jaw worked furiously as he said, "Barachiel. Where is-"

Alex could care less about the presence of Raphael. She didn't give a _damn_ about finding God, not when this archangel, who she'd prayed to so desperately for help, had ignored her pleas. When she'd prayed for him to at least save Matt, who was now dead because of her-

Her hands shook with the rage that gathered in her. " _You_ ," she seethed. "It's your fault!"

"Alex," Castiel said sharply, moving to intercept her when she lunged for the archangel, lifting her blade above her head. He materialized before her, gripping her wrist so hard that she was forced to drop it. It clattered the pavement. "Dean," he said firmly, "take it."

"Uh, right." Dean stooped to snatch up the black blade that gleamed wickedly beneath the sunlight. Alex whirled on him as Castiel released her wrist. His green eyes were troubled as he tucked it safely into his jacket. He held his hands up in surrender when she stalked towards him. "Look, puppy-"

"Dean, give it back," she demanded, shouting at the top of her lungs when he said nothing, " _Give it to me_!"

Barachiel clicked his tongue as he watched all of this. "Honestly, Alex," he crooned. "That's not necessary. If you wanted to know where I've been, you need only ask." She whirled on him, teeth bared.

"You let him get killed," she whispered, her breath hitching in her fury. "Because of you, my brother and his family are _dead_! And Avery! All of them! You let them get killed!" She stalked back over to him and despite his somewhat usually aggressively proud behavior, Dean let out a whoosh of air in relief. It was _never_ fun to have an angry woman yelling at you - at least in his experience.

But Barachiel didn't flinch when she used all of the strength she had to shove at his chest. Castiel warned her off, but she only snarled threateningly, "I'll kill you. Mark my words, I will destroy you, Barachiel, archangel or not, for not helping him."

Castiel sighed irritably and gave her a sharp look when Barachiel lifted a brow and, still looking at Alex, "You come to me, demanding answers, and threaten me while you're at it? Now why on earth would I help you find Raphael, Castiel?" He grinned at the angel, who hunched his shoulders a little and glared at him through squinted eyes. "I mean, honestly. It's quite rude." He sighed in disappointment and shook his head. "I expected more of you... _all_ of you, especially Michael's vessel...how sad."

"You know what?" Dean said darkly, "You're just as much a dick as the rest of them. Thought as much when you showed up in that bathroom, but seriously. What kinda guardian angel are you?"

"The kind that knows what he wants," Barachiel said, winding his fingers behind his back. "And sorry, Alex. Matthew just wasn't required for what I want you to do." He made a twisted face, then laughed without a care. "Sorry. He just wasn't worth it, you know? And it wasn't like they were going to kill _you_. So I let them have their fun. So that big brother Lucy could come back."

Alex felt tears of rage rise in her eyes. A lump in her throat, she said hoarsely, "My brother is worth more than you could ever be."

"Mm, not 'is,'" Barachiel snickered, "'Was' might be a better word."

"You _bloody-_ "

Barachiel waved a hand. "Ah, ah, ah," he said with a laugh, and Alex was silenced. Her face twisted with surprise, her voice gone. Dean scowled.

This _dick_.

"Where is Raphael?" Castiel demanded finally, not seeming to care that Alex was near feral with anger. He needed information, and Barachiel was being incredibly unhelpfully. As was Alex, who he'd expected more professional behavior from. "Tell us."

"Um, no. And, because I'm such a nice person, I'll even keep the fact that you summoned me under wraps." He wiggled his eyebrows playfully. "Ta ta, mortals." He cracked a grin and added with a laugh, "Have fun, Alex. Your time's coming and I can't wait!" He disappeared with nothing but the sound of wings left behind.

"Damn it, Alex!" Dean snapped as she rubbed her throat angrily, scowling. "Really? Kind of lost your cool there, didn't you?"

Castiel pressed his lips together with an exasperated huff, but Alex only snarled, "He wasn't there. He's supposed to be some kind of guardian angel, and _he wasn't there_." A sob built and escaped, filling the air. "He said Matt was worth nothing. _Nothing_."

Dean looked uncomfortable with the conversation now. This was usually Sam's part. Where Sam stepped in and took over, reassuring her with words that Dean couldn't really figure out how to come up with at the moment. So he pushed her gently towards the car and said, "Look, let's just...figure out what to do on the drive, okay? We'll figure out a different way to get to Raphael."

"I know of another way," Castiel said suddenly, staring suspiciously at the pavement beneath his feet. He squinted a little. Finally, he added, "Perhaps...Barachiel was not the best way to go from the beginning."

Alex's mouth opened, closed, and then pressed into a hard line. "Excuse me? Did...did we just summon Barachiel for no reason whatsoever, Castiel?" Her face hardened when he didn't respond, looking uncomfortable by the accusation.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean groaned. "C'mon, Cas!"

"It was not for no reason," Castiel said defensively. "Barachiel is a danger to us all." He furrowed his brow a little, admitting, "Gabriel has always been good at handling him. But I don't know where he has gone." He looked between them closely. "Forgive me. I was attempting to understand his plans. I am...admittedly more confused now."

Alex stared at him for a few moments, and then gave a breathless, disbelieving giggle. "Are you…" She shook her head, giggling harder. She swiped tears away from her eyes. "I can't believe this. You know what?" Ignoring Dean's scowl as she did so, she shoved her hand into his jacket, taking back her blade. "Let's just go. Where are we going, Cas?"

"The hell, Alex?" Dean shoved her back a few steps, adjusting his jacket. He straightened it, giving her a sharp look, and then spun on his heel. He took the keys out of his pocket.

Castiel looked puzzled. "Why are you getting into your car?" he demanded. "I can-"

"No," they both said in unison and then glared at each other.

"We're taking the car, Cas. Get in," Dean muttered, and swung open the driver side door.

* * *

Days later found Dean asking as he straightened his tie, green eyes flashing as Alex pouted in the backseat of the Impala, the door open so that she could see and hear them, "And we're here...why?"

Castiel's eyes were locked on the building before them. "A deputy sheriff laid eyes on the archangel," he said simply, not taking his eyes off of it.

"And he still has _eyes_?" Alex muttered, eyes wide.

They'd arrived in Waterville, Maine earlier in the day, and Dean had donned a suit when he'd realized that Castiel wanted to speak to someone in the sheriff's department. They had to go undercover. With Castiel there, however, and Dean claiming first dibs, Alex had been punted from the team with a pout on her face. "I still think you should let me go," Alex grumbled, playing with the hem of her jacket. "I can smell if there are demons about. Or something."

Dean grinned and patted Castiel roughly on the shoulder, although he wore a slight darkened look in his eyes as he studied her. She'd lost it a little since the confrontation with Barachiel, and it wasn't a good thing. "Yeah, but Castiel can see 'em. Right, Cas?"

"Um," the angel said with an uncertain look. "Yes?"

"Good. You wait here, I'll let you know what we hear," Dean told her. "Go buy some lunch or something." He turned to Castiel with a confident look, buttoning his suit jacket. "Alright, Cas, what's the plan?"

"We'll...tell the officer that he witnessed an angel of the Lord, and the officer will tell us where Raphael is," Castiel said confidently, looking so damn proud of himself for that answer that Alex burst into soft giggles, amused. "I...do not understand why you are laughing at me, Alex."

Dean chuckled and said, "Seriously? You want to walk in there and tell him the truth?"

"Why not?"

"Because we're humans," Dean declared and Alex lifted her eyebrows in amusement as he pulled a fake ID from his pocket, showed it to Cas, and then shoved it into Castiel's jacket. He proceeded to straighten Castiel's coat and tie, adding, "And when humans want something really, _really_ badly, we lie."

Castiel was horrified. "But _why_?"

"Because Cas," Alex supplied smugly, giggling, "that's how Americans become president."

"Watch it," Dean said although he looked amused by her response, "you're pretty American recently."

Alex merely flipped him off, playing cheerfully with a pistol she'd found in the trunk. One of Sam's, Dean realized with a hint of grief for the easier times when he and his brother had been on good terms. Before hunting had involved demons and angels. "Just...go and have fun, boys. Make sure to keep me in the loop."

"Will do," Dean told her and then clasped Castiel's shoulder and pushed him towards the station. "C'mon, Cas. We've got work to do."

* * *

From where she sat, watching Dean page through a journal that she knew she wasn't really allowed to touch, Alex spoke up. "You know," she murmured, "Cas wouldn't have just...poofed without a damn good reason." She yawned, running a hand through her hair. It was a tangled mess; she'd need to cut it soon, she realized.

It was getting too long.

"He probably went to grab something we know nothing about. He knows a lot more about this...catching archangels business then we do," Alex finished, resting her chin on her folded fingers. She sat in a chair backwards, too tired to sit up on her own.

Dean paused to give her a dirty look. "Well, we wouldn't be waiting on him if someone hadn't chased off another archangel."

Alex stuck her tongue out. "That wasn't even meant to help us out with Raphael. Cas said so, remember?" She fell silent as she watched Dean flip another page, approaching the table that her chair went to. She watched as he carefully set the journal onto the table, leaning over it. Alex studied it out of the corner of her eye before saying quietly, "I'm sorry. I mean, we didn't know what Cas intended at the moment, but...he should have been there. If he was a guardian angel, he should have been there, and he wasn't it. And because of that, Matt is dead."

She hated that word. It was so...final.

Dean didn't answer for a moment, simply staring at the open journal. Finally, he muttered, "Yeah, well, can't change it now." Alex supposed it was the best form of forgiveness she was going to get for the time being.

She kicked her feet impatiently. After talking with an officer and finding Raphael's previous vessel near comatose, the pair of hunters had somehow ended up in an empty cabin in the woods. Alex had muttered about horror story stereotypes. Castiel had disappeared not long after, leaving them alone after telling them to wait for him there.

Alex watched as Dean lost his patience and turned around - only to grunt in surprise. Alex jumped when she looked up and found herself looking at Castiel, who was frowning at them with a ceramic jar in his hands. "Where the hell have you been?" Dean snapped, folding his arms.

"Jerusalem," was his answer.

"Oh?" Alex questioned, smiling faintly into her arms. "How was it?"

Castiel looked confused with her curiosity as he answered, "Arid." He set the jar gingerly on the table, warning them not to mess with it. When Alex cocked her head, he explained, "It's oil. Very special, very rare." He then proceeded to sit in the other chair, looking so damn proud of himself that Alex couldn't help but grin.

She loved this strange angel, who couldn't seem to help but confuse everyone he met.

"Okay, so we're trapping Raphael with a nice vinaigrette?" Dean demanded, arching a brow. He pressed his lips together unhappily, narrowing his eyes. "This ritual of yours," he continued a moment later, "when does it got to go down?"

"Sunrise." Castiel said this with confidence.

"Tell me something," Dean said and Alex groaned, realizing he was going to launch into some bitter speech. "You keep saying we're gonna trap this guy. Isn't that kinda like trapping a hurricane with a butterfly net?"

Castiel said simply, "No." Alex perked up. Well that was good news! "It's harder."

"Well, there's that," Alex muttered with a pout. She studied Castiel when he turned a curious look on her. "Do we have any chance of surviving this?"

" _You_ do," Castiel answered with a grimace, and Alex made a face. That meant he was a dead man come sunrise. That sucked. She liked him. Then again, no one was able to survive long if they had anything to do with the supernatural world.

"Well then," Dean said, suddenly looking excited. Alex threw him a warning look. "Last night on Earth. What are your plans, Cas? Come on, anything? Booze, women?"

Castiel looked incredibly uncomfortable as he said, "I just...thought I'd sit here quietly."

"Dean," Alex hissed, but he waved her off and demanded, "You have been with women before? Right? Or an angel, at least?" She threw her hands up as Castiel rubbed the back of his neck with an incredibly uncomfortable look that only grew to be more so as Dean grinned. "You mean to tell me you've never been up there doing a little cloud-seeding?"

"Dean," Alex said in realization when Castiel said absolutely nothing. "Dean, no."

"All right," Dean said, reaching for his jacket. "Let me tell you something. There are two things I know for certain."

" _Dean_ _Winchester_ ," Alex seethed, shooting to her feet, " _no_. You are not doing what I think you're going to try and do."

Castiel looked a little worried by how worried Alex was suddenly getting, especially when Dean continued as if she'd said nothing. "One," Dean said, "Alex is a puppy who doesn't know what she's talking about." Alex rolled her eyes, folding her arms irritably. "Two, you are _not_ gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch. Let's go."

"Dean," Alex said, ignoring his look when she grabbed his arm, even as Castiel reluctantly climbed to his feet. "Dean. No. No way in hell. You are not taking him to a stripper joint."

"Well, we're not asking _you_ to come," Dean retorted, but she gave his arm a purposeful tug.

" _No_ ," she hissed. "He's an _angel_. Do you _want_ to go back to Hell?"

"Then stay here, and I'll start on the path back to Hell alone," Dean replied without a hint of concern for what he was doing. "I'll let you know when we're on our way back, okay?"

"Oh, bloody hell-" Alex stormed over to Castiel, who was edging warily for the door. "I'm not letting you defile the poor guy. I'm coming, but it's only to make sure he gets left alone. Just because you think it's absolutely necessary for men to sleep with strippers does _not_ mean he needs to." She gave Castiel such a sharp look that he leaned back a little, especially when she grabbed his arm. "Do you hear me, Castiel? Don't let him force you into anything."

"Don't be a spoilsport, Alex," Dean said with a sudden cheerful tone, and she yelped when he pushed her right out the door. "Let's go get some beer."

"This is the worst idea," Alex snapped at him, even as he herded her towards the Impala, an uncertain Castiel coming behind them, "that you've ever had, Dean Winchester."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Just get in the damn car."

* * *

"I can't believe we're doing this," Alex said almost an hour later, her heart racing in her chest and discomfort written across the skinwalker's face as she shifted her glass of whiskey back and forth. Dean looked entirely at home as he sipped away at a beer. Across from them both was Castiel, who looked utterly terrified.

Dean shot her a look. "I wish you'd at least sat elsewhere. No woman's going to come over here if you're sitting there."

"Someone's gotta make sure poor Cas survives this traumatic experience," was her response as she glared back at him. She tossed her head. "Besides. The woman over there has been giving me the eye since I got here." Alex gestured to a dark-haired woman at the back who was glancing at her every few minutes. Alex wiggled her fingers a little. The woman giggled behind her hand. "I got a girl before you did. Twat."

"No need for rude language," he muttered, and then looked over when Castiel said in an almost whisper, "This is a den of iniquity, Dean. I should not be here."

"Dude," Dean replied fearlessly, "you rebelled against Heaven. Iniquity is one of the perks."

"Not really," Alex muttered, reassuring Castiel, "seriously, Cas, don't let Dean push you into anything you don't want to-"

"Showtime," Dean interrupted, smirking as a woman began to approach. Alex scowled and then sat back, hiding her mouth behind her whiskey glass. She _hated_ what they were doing to this poor angel. Well, what Dean was doing, because she had _no_ part in this… She eyed the pretty blonde woman, whose smoldering dark eyes were scanning Dean up and down eagerly. Alex snickered and waited until her gaze turned on the skinwalker. She batted her eyelashes and gave her a scowl.

If he was going to destroy Castiel's innocence, she was sure as hell going to make sure he didn't get any.

Sighing a little, the woman turned on Castiel, tilting her head so that her blonde hair fell around her face in a playful manner. "Hi," she purred. "What's your name?"

Alex bit back a laugh when Castiel avoided looking at her, instead gazing anxiously at Alex as if seeking answers as to what he should do. "Cas," Dean answered for him, and Castiel stiffened. "His name is Cas. What's your name?"

The woman preened underneath the attention. "Chastity."

Dean smiled brightly at her and Castiel proceeded to snatch up his beer, drinking almost half of it in one go. "Wow, is that kismet or what, buddy?" he said cheerfully to Castiel. "Well," he continued, directing this at Chastity, "he likes you, you like him, so..."

Castiel turned a bewildered, exasperated look on Alex, who gave him a helpless one. She couldn't just launch into some random excuse for the guy; he needed to do it, or the woman would get pissed! "Come on, baby," Chastity crooned, taking his hand and tugging him to his feet.

Before she could get far, Dean reached across Alex and caught Castiel's arm, pushing a handful of money into his fingers. "If she asks for a credit card, say no," he told him with a grin, "and just stick to the basics, okay? Do _not_ order off the menu. Go get her, tiger." Castiel said nothing, not moving. Dean was quick to threaten, "Don't make me push you."

Reluctantly, Castiel tucked the money away and then turned to follow Chastity. Dean watched him go for a moment, and then said to Alex with a scowl, "If you're gonna tag along, sit on the other side."

Alex looked him in the eye and rumbled with a low growl, "If you're going to torture the poor guy and drag him into this hellhole, then you're going to suffer, too." She proceeded to down the rest of her whiskey. "I can't believe you dragged him to a place like...like _this_." Alex curled a lip in disgust. "Just because we're summoning Raphael, too."

Dean huffed and reached for his beer. "Look, like I said. No man deserves to die a virgin."

"Yes," she said, accent sharp in her concern for Castiel, "well, he's an angel, isn't he. And I'm pretty sure there's got to be something somewhere that says an angel shouldn't be forced into-" She was cut off by a high-pitched scream that Dean clearly didn't hear, because he merely arched a brow, patiently waiting for her to finish. A growl thundered in Alex's chest as she hoisted herself up.

"What's up, mutt?" Dean demanded, recognizing the nasty look on her face as one that meant bad news.

"I heard a scream." Without another word, Alex ran her fingers along the inside of her arm and climbed to her feet, stalking towards the direction the scream had come from. Dean was quick to follow; he may have been annoyed with her, but he didn't want to see innocent people dead if something had gone wrong.

Alex had just ducked into an area akin to a back room when she heard another scream, this time able to comprehend words. "Get out of my face! Leave me alone! Screw you, you bastard!" She heard a crash, and then a higher-pitched shriek of "I'll kill you!"

"What the hell-" Dean began to say, but was interrupted when Chastity stormed from a room and shoved past them. She paused, recognizing who they were, and then snarled at Dean, nearly spitting at him, "Screw you, too! God, you asshole!"

Dean stared after the furious girl in surprise as Castiel reluctantly emerged, looking confused. "What did you _do_?"

"I don't know," Castiel said with a hint of relief on his face. "I just looked her in the eyes and told her it wasn't her fault that her father ran off. He hated his job at the post office."

Dean looked horrified and Alex had to stifle a giggle that built in her throat. Dean shot her a glare as he groaned, "C'mon, Cas! This whole industry runs on absent fathers. It's...it's the natural order."

A shift in the air caught Alex's attention, and she nudged Dean sharply with her elbow when she saw two men - bouncers, if she was correct in guessing - approaching through the door Chastity had gone through. "We should go," she said pointedly and then abandoned Dean to grab Castiel's arm and head for the nearest door. They exited through an alley and Alex was exasperated by the time they were outside, simply because Dean had begun to outright laugh.

"What the hell is so funny?" she said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, nothing," Dean chuckled. He snickered, unable to help himself. Rubbing his aching stomach, aware that the two with him were staring, he chortled, "S'been a long time since I've laughed that hard." His expression darkened a little as he realized that it had been years, and said so out loud.

Alex gave him a look of understanding, and then smiled gently at Castiel, who looked horrified by what had happened. "Don't worry, Cas," she said, patting his arm. "We won't let Dean do that to you again, okay?"

"Thank you," was Castiel's only response.

* * *

The next morning found the trio in St. Peter's Hospital. Dean was near the doorway of a room that housed Raphael's previous vessel, keeping an eye out for any nurse that might come around. Within the room, eyeing the poor man in the wheelchair, Alex quickly closed the blinds in the room and beckoned for him to come in. Dean quietly closed the door behind him and Castiel looked up momentarily from pouring holy oil in a circle around the man's wheelchair.

"When the oil burns," Castiel said, eyeing it warily, "no angel can touch or pass through the flames, or he dies."

"Okay," Dean said warily, "so we trap him in a steel cage of holy fire, but one question: how the hell do we get him here?"

"Very simple," Castiel said, and then passed the jar of oil carefully to Alex. She took it, quickly sealing it. She had a feeling that this oil would come in handy at a later date. Better to keep it while they had the opportunity. "There's almost an open phone line of sorts, between a vessel and his angel. One just has to know how to dial."

Alex joined Dean, who held open his duffel so that she could place the jar gingerly in it. "Don't break it," she warned him.

Dean scowled at her. "Shut up."

They watched in silence as Castiel leaned in to murmur in the vessel's ear. Alex caught the sounds with ease, recognizing some kind of chant, but then choked on her own saliva in laughter when he added, "I'm here, Raphael. Come and get me, you little bastard."

"What?" Dean demanded as Castiel stepped away from the circle of oil he'd poured. Shaking his head, Dean asked, "Out of curiosity, what is the average customer wait time to speak to an archangel?"

"Be ready," Castiel said darkly and promptly dropped a lit match onto the oil, watching as it burst into a ring of fire.

* * *

"That's a day I'll never get back," Dean muttered as he put the Impala in park and reached back to wake the sleeping skinwalker. He'd been agitated with how quickly she'd fallen asleep, but had let her. She'd not slept well the night before - she had woken him up with her scream when she'd had a nightmare. He paused to look at her, studying her for a moment. Castiel watched quietly, curious about the various expressions that raced across Dean's face like wind chasing clouds across a blue sky.

But then Dean shook his head and poked Alex warily. She was recently becoming a jumpy person when she woke up. She'd almost slit his throat purely by accident one morning when he'd kicked her awake, demanding that they get a move on. She'd apologized profusely, but it had taken him a good week to forgive her...sort of.

He wasn't entirely sure on how he felt about Alex recently.

She wasn't bad. He didn't hate her. He didn't even dislike her. She was fun to mess with when she wasn't being bitchy, and she worked just as hard as he did - sometimes even harder, as if to make up for moments like the nightmarish wake up. She cared for Sam, too, and felt horrible that he'd left, even if neither talked about it. And after traveling for so long with someone else, whether it be his father and then Sam himself…

Dean couldn't bring himself to mind that she was still hanging around.

Alex rumbled an unhappy growl as she blinked her eyes open and narrowed them at him. He didn't react by the odd way her blind eye looked as she tried to clear her eyes of bleariness. "The bloody hell do you-"

He shot her a grin, mocking. "Wakey, wakey, Alex. We're here."

"Where _is_ 'here' exactly?" she asked, sitting up to peer out into the night. Her good eye caught on a house that she didn't recognize, and she blinked as Castiel seemed to materialize beside her car door. She snorted when he cocked his head, as if wondering why she wasn't getting out. "Move, Cas," she said with a yawn, and when he promptly side-stepped, opened the door and climbed out.

"Did we or did we not prepare this place?" Alex asked, glancing to Dean when he locked the car.

"Cas did," he answered, lowering his voice in case someone of celestial magnitudes was eavesdropping.

Alex nodded curtly, wrapping her arms around herself and taking a deep breath. "And we think he's in there?"

"Yes," Castiel said curtly, striding for the door. The pair of hunters slid after him and Dean let Alex go first upon reaching the front door. Castiel had barely made it through before he stopped suddenly. Alex bumped into his back with a grunt and Castiel hissed, "Dean, wait," when Dean went to step around them.

They were all promptly blinded as bright light flared up. Alex threw her hands up to protect her eye. A moment later, when the light had faded a little, she lowered her hands and found herself looking at the man they'd encircled with oil and holy fire earlier in the day. Her eyes widened at the sight of massive wings formed with lightning at his back.

"Castiel," he said in a irritated, deep voice.

"Raphael," Castiel greeted in response, not looking too excited. With care, they approached.

"And I thought you were supposed to be impressive," Dean commented, ignoring the way Alex jabbed him in the chest with her elbow. He swatted her away and then added, "All you do is blackout the room."

"And the Eastern Seaboard," Raphael said with a hint of smugness. There was a massive flash of lightning outside. "It is a testament to my unending mercy that I do not smite you here and now, Dean Winchester."

Dean picked up an attitude despite the irritation Alex was giving him. "Or maybe you're full of shit. Maybe you're afraid God will bring Cas back to life again and smite you and your candy-ass skirt."

"Dean," Alex said in exasperation. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

"Listen to the Soldier," Raphael purred, amused. "She may be the only smart one out of all of you…although, perhaps not, if she followed Castiel. Thanks to him, I know where you two are."

"You won't kill us," Alex said hotly, agitated that she'd been complimented by an angel who clearly could care less about them. "You wouldn't dare." Barachiel wanted to use her, too. At least, if something went downhill, she could count on the bastard to keep them alive for his own personal gain. _I think_.

"But I will take you both to Michael," Raphael retorted.

"Sounds terrifying," Dean sneered, "Truly, it does. But I hate to tell you. We're not going anywhere with you." He wandered over to the counter of the kitchen that they had entered through, grabbing a beer. He popped it open and took a swig, smug.

"Surely you remember Zachariah giving you stomach cancer?" Raphael mocked.

"Yeah, that was...hilarious," Dean laughed, not at all concerned. He offered another beer to Alex, who only stared at him in completely bewilderment. What was _wrong_ with this man?

"Well, he doesn't have anything close to my imagination."

"Perhaps," Alex muttered, "but at least he as some sense of decency, you know? He doesn't act all righteous when he knows he isn't."

Raphael turned a nasty glare on her and Dean hastily cut in to distract him. "I bet you didn't imagine one thing, you stupid son of a bitch. We knew you were coming." He promptly plucked his lighter from his pocket, lit it, and then threw it near the archangel. A circle of holy oil ignited almost instantly, and Raphael turned murderous, lips curling back in disgust.

"Don't look at us," Alex said, hands up in mock surrender. "It was Cas' idea."

Castiel threw her an exasperated look before almost snarling, "Where is He?"

"God?" Raphael blinked, and then chuckled, dropping his head and shaking it. After a few moments in which the other three occupants of the room grew uncomfortable, he lifted his eyes to Castiel's. "Didn't you hear? He's dead, Castiel. _Dead_." Castiel's face hardened with disbelief. "I'd offer another explanation, but there is none. He is gone for good."

"You're lying," Castiel accused, sounding almost hurt. Alex felt for the poor guy; he'd been trying so hard to find Him - God.

"Am I?" Raphael laughed. "Do you remember the twentieth century? Think the twenty-first is going any better?" Dean exchanged a look with Alex, who contemplated what he meant. "Do you think _God_ would have let any of that happen if He were alive?" His gaze slid cruelly over Dean and Alex as he added maliciously, "Do you think He would have allowed Azazel to kill Mary Winchester? Or a skinwalker to defile the destined Soldier?"

Dean quickly lost his smirk and instead gave him a look that promised a violent death. "Yeah, I bet he's a real champ. I bet He'd be real proud, watching His sons running around after starting the apocalypse."

Raphael looked irritated with the response he'd received and hissed, "We're tired. We just want it to be over. We just want...paradise."

Alex said quietly, voice full of fury, "So...God dies and makes you the boss? And then rather than doing as He would have liked, you decide to do whatever you want?" She gave him a look of disgust. "What kind of angel are you?"

"The kind," Raphael retorted, seeming to grow larger almost as he straightened, "that gets whatever he wants." The windows burst inwards, sprinkling glass everywhere. Castiel barely reacted, and Dean only flinched, but Alex threw her arms up to protect her eyes. She winced when a large shard sliced down her forearm, lodged there. Dean swore and Raphael grinned triumphantly.

"If God is dead, why have I returned? Who brought me back?" Castiel demanded.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe Lucifer raised you?" Raphael replied, turning his attention on the other angel now. Dean stepped forward as soon as he'd looked away to pluck the glass out of Alex's arm. She hissed softly as he did so, pressing her palm over the injury to staunch the flow of blood. Just one more scar to add to her hideous collection. "Think about it," the archangel coaxed, "he needs all of the rebellious angels he can find. You know it adds up."

Castiel gave him a long look, cocking his head a little. And then he turned his back on him and said, "Let's go."

"Castiel." Raphael grew malicious again, looking furious when he realized that they intended to leave him surrounded by flames. "Castiel! I'm warning you. Do not leave me here. I will find you."

"Maybe one day," Castiel said without looking at him. His gaze had gone to Alex, a furrow in his brow. "But today, you're my little bitch." And then he strode from the house, clearly unhappy with what had happened. Alex was quick to follow him, Dean not a step behind. Dean paused however to look back at the infuriated archangel and smirked.

"What he said."

When he finally emerged from the house, Alex was waiting with Castiel at the car. The angel was gently inspecting the injury on her arm and within seconds, had healed it away, murmuring an apology to the skinwalker. She shrugged.

It wasn't anything new.

Dean was quick to unlock the car as Castiel declared that they needed to leave before Raphael was able to free himself from the holy fire, and neither Alex nor Dean were willing to disagree with him.

Within minutes, they were driving down a highway at nearly ninety miles an hour, rain slamming like a monsoon into the windshield. Even two hours later, the windshield wipers swept the water away with ease, and Alex watched the back and forth motion in silence, awake despite being curled up in the backseat. She liked when Dean thought she was asleep and muttered things aloud he normally wouldn't; it gave her insight in how to avoid cranky days. Castiel was silent in the passenger seat, watching the rain.

"You okay?" Dean said suddenly. When Castiel didn't say anything, clearly upset, Dean continued. "Look, I'll be the first to tell you that this little crusade of yours is nuts, but…" He glanced at Castiel out of the corner of his eye. "I do know a little something about missing fathers."

Castiel sounded puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean there were times," Dean said quietly, his voice full of old, raw pain that clearly could never be fixed, "when I was looking for my dad when all logic said that he was dead, but I knew in my heart he was still alive. Who cares what some ninja turtle says, Cas? What do you believe?"

"I believe he's out there." Castiel was confident, and Alex knew the simple statement had reassured him.

"Good. Then go find him."

"What about you?" Castiel said, sounding anxious and concerned about him. "And Alex?"

"What about us?" Dean shrugged, shifting his grip on the steering wheel. "I don't know about Alex, but honestly? I'm good. I can't believe I'm saying that while I have a skinwalker racked out cold in my back seat, but I am. I'm really good."

Alex was surprised when Castiel asked, "Even without your brother?"

Something in her chest ached when he responded, "Especially without my brother. I mean, I've spent so much time worrying about the son of a bitch. I've had more fun with you two in the past twenty-four hours than I've had with Sam in years, and let's be honest, you guys aren't that much fun. It's funny, you know." He continued, even as Alex heard the fluttering of wings signaling Castiel's departure, and that ache only grew. "I've been so chained to my family, but now...hell, I'm happy."

Alex closed her eyes entirely, knowing that he would look over in a moment to see if she was still asleep. There was the rustling of clothes and creaking of leather as he did just that. And then he muttered under his breath, "Damn it."

* * *

 _Sam_.

Sam stirred at the faintest of voices calling his name, and when it was called again, he reluctantly opened his eyes, glancing around warily. His eyes snapped wide when he found himself looking at a faintly smiling Jess. His heart swelled with excitement as she searched his gaze.

"So," she said with the slightest of teasing tones, "this is your life now? You think you can just live forever with your head buried in the sand?"

He knew deep in his heart that this wasn't her. Knew it was a trick. But Sam couldn't help it. He'd had that horrific day, with the hunters who'd come through town and turned on him the second a friend had been killed by demons. How the woman had looked at him in horror after he'd held a knife to one of their throats. And he murmured as she ran her thumb over his chin, "I love you, Jess," before sitting up and turning his back to her, running a hand down his face as he stood. "God knows how much I miss you, too. But you're wrong." He swallowed thickly. "People can change. There is reason for hope."

"No, Sam," she said softly, her voice morphing into a masculine one. Sam spun around in time to see a man with odd spots on his face and a smirk on his lips take Jess' place. "There isn't."

Sam's dark eyes filled with hatred. "Lucifer."

"You are a hard one to find, Sam," Lucifer mused, cocking his head. "Harder than most humans. I don't suppose you'd tell me where you are?"

Dreaming, then. Sam lifted his chin. "What do you want with me?"

"Thanks to you," Lucifer hummed, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking onto his heels, "I walk the earth. I wanted to...give you a gift. I want to give you _everything_." Sam gave him a look of disgust and said nothing. "I'm so sorry, Sam. I...I really am." Lucifer placed a hand over his chest, almost mockingly. "But Nick here is just an improvisation. Plan B. He can barely contain me without spontaneously combusting."

Sam scowled. "What are you talking about?"

Lucifer grinned, sauntering closer to Sam. He stopped foot away, murmuring, "Why do you think you were in that chapel?" Sam didn't answer again, and he grinned. "Sam, Sam, _Sam_...you're the one! My vessel." He crooned his words now, lovingly. "My true vessel." Sam shook his head in denial, horrified, and Lucifer chuckled when he proclaimed that it would never happen. "I'm sorry, but it will. I will find you. And when I do, you will let me in, Sam. I'm sure of it."

"You need my consent," Sam said sharply.

"Of course," Lucifer sighed, pouting as he crossed his arms. "I'm an angel."

"I will _kill_ myself," Sam seethed pointedly, "before I let you in."

"I'll just bring you back." Lucifer waved the threat off without a hint of concern. "Sam...my heart breaks for you. The weight on your shoulders, what you've done. What you still have to do. It is more than anyone could bear. If there was some other way...but there isn't." He made a saddened expression that he clearly didn't mean. "I will never lie to you...never trick you...but you will say yes to me."

"You're wrong," Sam whispered, shaking his head. He gave a somewhat faint laugh. "Why me?"

"Because it had to be you, Sam. It always had to be you."

And when Sam looked up...Lucifer was gone.

* * *

 _Love this episode. Always makes me laugh when I watch it. And poor Sam. Next up is the Croatoan/future stuff. That ought to be exciting. ;)_

 _Thanks to reviewers (CelestialGodSlayer16, elorika10, and Asia Saunders!) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	34. The End

Alex nibbled at the fries that Dean had brought her, grateful that he'd actually been nice enough to gift her dinner. She hadn't expected him to, but he'd surprised her with it, even playfully making her jump for it when he'd held it above her head. It had been a rare good moment in which there was no monsters and neither were irritated with the other for something or another. She crunched down on another fry.

She liked those moments.

"We're...talking about the Colt, right?" She glanced back at the mention of the gun. Dean was on the phone. With Castiel, he'd told her when she'd gotten nosy, swatting her away. "I mean...as in _the_ Colt?" A moment of silence before he added, "That doesn't make any sense. I mean, why would the demons keep a gun around that kills demons?"

Alex turned all of her attention in Dean's direction, arching a brow when he laughed. He waved her off, leaning back in his seat. "You know, it's kind of funny. Talking to a messenger of God on a cellphone. It's like watching a Hell's Angel ride a moped."

Alex finally caught a hint of Castiel's side when his voice lifted in distress. "This isn't funny, Dean," he snapped loudly, and Dean moved the phone away from his ear. "The voice says I'm almost out of minutes!"

Grinning from ear to ear, Dean was laughing too hard to help the poor guy, so Alex climbed to her feet, swiping crumbs from her fingers. She grabbed the phone from Dean's hand and he didn't even complain as she held the phone to her ear and reassured, "It's okay, Cas, ignore the voice, okay?"

Castiel made a sound of uncertainty. "Dean never makes sense."

"I know, I'm with you on that." Alex leaned her hip against the table, putting the phone on speaker and then resting it on the table. "What's this I hear about the Colt?"

"Cas says the demons have it," Dean said, resting his chin in his palm, elbow propped on the table. "And I'm telling you, Cas, the mooks have melted down the gun by now. No way in hell they'd keep it around."

"Well," Castiel said grouchily, "I hear differently. And if it's true and if you are still set on the insane task of killing the devil, this is how we do it." He made a soft huff of agitation at the end of the statement. "Where are you now?"

Dean opened his mouth to say some kind of sarcastic answer and Alex coughed to interrupt him before promptly sweeping the chair out from under him. Dean went down with a bellow of surprise and anger and Alex purred into the phone when Castiel questioned if he was alright, turning it onto speaker so that Dean could hear, "Don't worry, he just fell out of his chair. Kansas City, Cas," she told him, "Century Hotel, room one-one-three."

"I'll be there immediately."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean said, interrupting with wide eyes as he climbed to his feet. "No, no, come on, man. We just drove like sixteen hours straight, okay? We're human - well, at least I am." It earned him a sharp look. "And Alex kinda needs sleep, too, I guess. And there's stuff we have to do. Eat, for example. Sleep. Just...give me like four hours once in a while, okay?"

"Yes."

"So, you can pop in tomorrow morning." Without waiting, Dean grabbed his phone and hung up as Castiel was speaking. Alex glared at him. "What? I was serious. And weren't you complaining about needing to get some sleep?"

"Yes," Alex admitted, running a hand through her hair. She bit her lip. "I guess so…" She shook her head to clear it. "But you don't need to be rude to the poor guy! You owe him."

"And he owes us," was the response she got before Dean began kicking his shoes off. "Now do whatever, but do it _quietly_. I'm going to bed." He tucked a handgun beneath his pillow as he did every time he slept and Alex arched a brow as he promptly flopped face first into the mattress and blankets, not bothering to climb beneath the sheets.

"Wow," Alex muttered, "good night to you, too, Winchester."

He responded by making a rude gesture that once would have agitated her further but now only made her smile faintly before shutting off the lights, content to go to bed herself.

* * *

Dean was awoken by the annoying sound of his phone vibrating. Somewhat pissed, because he'd actually been sleeping without dreams for once - something Alex wasn't getting to enjoy if the sounds coming from the bed she was curled up in said anything about it. Scowling, Dean answered the phone. "Damn it, Cas! I need to sleep!"

He froze when a wary voice muttered, "Dean, it's me."

"Sam?" Dean rasped, sitting up. He squinted at the clock that read the time. "It's quarter past four in the morning. I was sleeping."

"Is Alex there? It's important. Both of you need to hear this." Sam asked, ignoring him. There was something in his voice that had Dean not playing around. He merely said he'd wake her up and to hold on. "Okay."

It took Dean a few minutes to rouse Alex, who woke with a panicked expression to which Dean grimaced and muttered an apology before telling her that Sam needed them to hear something. She was immediately up, muttering, "Go get some beers. We're going to need them." Dean agreed.

Eventually, they were ready to hear Sam's news and when he gave it over speakerphone, Alex's face went white and Dean went silent, his face emotionless. "So, you're his vessel?" Dean said after a few minutes of simple silence. "Lucifer's wearing you to the prom?"

"That's what he said."

"Just when you thought you were out, they pull you back in, huh, Sammy?"

"Dean," Alex pleaded quietly, giving him a look. "Don't be a twat."

"Well, what was he looking for?" Dean demanded, scowling.

"I don't know. A...a little panic?" Sam sounded hurt that Dean wasn't as concerned as he probably should have been about what he'd discovered. Alex felt bad about it. "What...what are we gonna do about it?"

Dean shifted, taking a drink of his beer, and Alex pressed her lips together unhappily about it. "What do you _want_ to do about it?"

Sam's response made him stiffen. "I want back in, for starters." Dean began to speak, but Sam interrupted, saying almost pleadingly, "I mean it. I'm sick of being a puppet to these sons of bitches. I'm gonna hunt him down, Dean."

"So we're back to revenge then, are we? 'Cause that worked out so well last time." Dean's tone was harsh and unforgiving, and Alex bit her lip. She didn't like this. Dean was being ridiculously unkind about the whole matter and while he had his reasons...Sam was clearly in distress and _trying_. "What, are you just gonna walk back in and we're gonna by the trio of misfits again?"

"Dean," Alex said quietly, "enough."

He turned a irritated look on her and she responded with a raised chin and flash of her eyes to show that she meant it. There was no rhyme or reason for this attitude he was giving Sam, who so clearly wanted _help_. He was upset, insisting to them both that he could do it, that he was going to prove himself to them.

Alex was heartbroken that he was under the impression that his voice wasn't enough for them. For her, at least, since Dean didn't seem to care as he spoke. "Look, Sam - it doesn't matter. Whatever we do...it turns out that you and me...we're the fire and the oil of Armageddon. you know, on that basis alone, we should just pick separate hemispheres. Stay away from each other for good."

"Dean," Sam pleaded, "it doesn't have to be like this. We can fight it."

"Yeah, you're right, we can," Dean said, and grief crossed his expression. Alex realized that he truly, truly believed what he was saying. "But...not together. We're not stronger when we're together, Sam, we're weaker. Because whatever we have between us...love, family, _whatever_ , they always use it against us. And you know that. We're better off apart. We got a better chance of dodging Lucifer, Michael, the whole damn thing if we just go on our own."

"But you're not alone," Sam said quietly, pointedly, and Alex grimaced sorrowfully. She felt tears rising in her eyes. "Dean, please, don't do this."

"Sam-" Alex began, about to encourage him, maybe offer to come and help him if he wanted company since his brother was being a _dick_ , but Dean merely said, "Bye, Sam," and hung up. Alex exploded, snarling as she shouted at him, "Are you bloody...do you even have a heart in that chest of yours? He _needs_ help!"

"He _needs_ to figure himself out," Dean retorted and then tossed his phone on a nightstand. He chugged the rest of his beer and then tossed the empty bottle. Alex just barely caught it in her fingers, swearing when it nearly shattered on the floor. "I'm going back to bed. Do whatever you want."

"You bloody wanker," Alex seethed. "He's your _brother_ , and he's still alive! Help him instead of thinking you're above him!" When he ignored her, she threw the beer bottle back at him and then threw herself onto the couch within the hotel room as it shattered. She crossed her arms, flopping onto her back as Dean huffed and wordlessly climbed back into bed, shutting his lamp off as he went.

Wordlessly, guilty, Alex pulled her own phone out of the pocket she'd shoved it into upon waking up. She checked for messages and then sent a text to Sam, asking him if he wanted her to come out and help him, because God help her, she would. She wasn't entirely sure about how they felt about her, but the Winchesters and Bobby were all she had left.

And she sure as hell wasn't letting either of them suffer if she could help it. Even if one of them had been behind her scarred face while the other was simply a twat half the time.

But she only found herself disappointed when Sam didn't respond.

* * *

Something was digging painfully into his spine, and it was that awkward uncomfortable pain that brought Dean out of the peaceful sleep he'd been enjoying. He grimaced, sitting up and reaching back to rub the spot - only to blink and look down as he realized there was no mattress on his bed. Only the boxspring, which was digging into every inch of his flesh. He slowly hauled himself to his feet, swearing under his breath. The entire room was trashed! Had Alex-

"Alex?" he called, looking around. The skinwalker wasn't in his immediate line of sight and he scowled when there was no response. Agitated, he folded his arms and made his way for the window - only to stare openly at the wrecked city outside. "What the hell?" he breathed.

Wary, Dean found the gun he'd put under his pillow, tucked his phone away after seeing if there was any additional contact someone had tried to make. Nothing - not even from Alex. Where the hell had she gone? Dean tried to not think about her as he left his room and exited the hotel, stopping to stare as he closed the front door behind him.

The entire area had been devastated, every window in every building broken and the buildings themselves covered in graffiti - if they were even standing. Some had begun to fall apart. Dean was just beginning to consider finding his car when he heard glass shatter followed by a snarl and a shout.

Dean jogged towards the commotion, following the noise around the corner of the hotel. He went down a small alley and then stopped. At the end of the alley, he could see Alex wrestling with a man who was attempting to bury his teeth in her throat, all while a little girl with a teddy bear cradled in her arms watched in silence. "Alex!" Dean called, mostly to alert her that he was there. He didn't dare approach the skinwalker now. She didn't give a sign to alert him that she'd heard, but he knew she had, and began to approach the girl. "Little girl?" he said softly, not wanting to frighten her. "Are you hurt?"

She didn't respond, simply watched the fight occurring.

"You know," Dean muttered to her, "the not-talking thing is kind of creepy-"

The girl whirled on him with a shriek, blood dripping from her mouth. She slashed with a shard of glass and Dean swore, swerving to avoid the blow before slamming her into the ground. Not letting her up even as she screamed, Dean quickly glanced around, facing hardening when he read a piece of graffiti that proclaimed, "CROATOAN."

"Shit," he muttered, now fully understanding the dilemma they were in. Dean, grateful he'd grabbed his gun, apologized mentally to the girl and fired a bullet into her head, just as Alex shrieked and slammed her own weapon home. The Croatoan died, flailing his limbs desperately. Shakily, Alex climbed to her feet and met his gaze.

"Hullo," she said faintly, "'bout time you woke up. I woke up out here, got caught by surprise by this bloody freak."

"The hell happened here?" Dean asked. "We went to bed last night, and-"

"I don't know," she said, eyes shifting to a space beside him. Her gaze filled with alarm. "Dean-"

He glanced over his shoulder and swore again. "Run!" he ordered, darting away from the group that had rounded the corner. The group of infected Croatoans snarled and gave chase. Alex bolted after him, her blade still slicked with red blood. She nearly rammed into him when they were herded into an alleyway that was blocked by a chain-link fence.

"Are you kidding me?" Alex gasped, her breath hot on his neck when she struggled to not run right into him. He would have told her to back up on any other day, but now he merely began to ram at the fence. Alex joined in and togehter, they finally broke through - just as gunfire filled the air. Rather than stopping to investigate, they bolted.

"Go, go, go!" Dean seethed, running. They ran for a while, and when Dean was out of breath, they slowed to a walk. "Can you hear anything?"

Alex pressed her lips together, shivering in shock and terror. "N-no. What the bloody hell is wrong with them?"

Dean bent over, catching his breath as he rested his hands on his knees. Alex trembled like a leaf, changing from a warrior-like appearance to that of a scared little fawn. "Croatoans," he answered wearily. "You weren't there when Sam and I first ran into 'em. It's not good. Not good at all. I don't know what it would do to you since you're not human, but don't get bit. Just to be safe. Ya hear me?"

"Yes." Alex took a deep breath to try and calm herself and then wiped her blade on her jeans. She lined it up, putting it away, and then looked around. She locked her attention onto a car and then gestured to it. "Dean."

He looked over and gave an approving nod. "I don't know where Baby is," he muttered, thinking longingly of his car as well as the fully stocked arsenal in his trunk. Alex looked saddened by this information and then followed him to the car. When he'd finished hot-wiring it, she climbed into the truck's passenger seat and then began to fiddle with the radio. "Only static," she reported when Dean was in and starting to get it moving.

"That's never a good sign," he admitted. A pause. "Do you think...do you think Sam's okay?"

"Now you care?" she said bitterly before sighing heavily. "I hope so."

They fell into silence and then stayed that way for the next few hours, only talking to one another when deciding on a destination. They mutually agreed on Bobby's being a good idea. Maybe he would have some answers for them. Alex hoped he was okay desperately.

She couldn't lose another member of her shrinking family.

She just...couldn't.

Nearly three and a half hours into the drive, with Alex staring anxiously out the window and searching for any sign of a safe person to talk to and Dean driving at illegal speeds, they were joined by a third party, who appeared without a word in the back seat and scared the hell out of each of them as he said, "'Croatoan pandemic reaches Australia.'"

"Friggin'-" Dean began to shout, the truck swerving, and Alex shrieked, jumping a few feet in the air. She glared viciously over her shoulder at the smugly smiling Zachariah. She bared her teeth, all ready reaching for her weaponry, but Zachariah paid her no mind as he read a newspaper, legs crossed at the knee. Through gritted teeth, Dean said, "I thought I smelled your stink on this _Back to the Future_ crap."

Zachariah only hummed happily, "'President Palin defends bombing of Houston.' Certainly a buyer's marked in real estate...let's see what's happening in sports! Oh, that's right." He lifted his gaze, meeting Alex's with a smirk. "No more sports. Congress revoked the right to group assembly." He paused to contemplate. "Or, at least, what's left of Congress, that is. Hardly a quorum if you ask me."

"Yes, well, no one asked you, you bloody waste of space," Alex seethed. "How did you find us?"

Zachariah's smile widened mockingly. "Afraid we had to tap some unorthodox resources lately. Human informants. We've been making inspirational visits to the fringier Christian groups. They've been given your image, told to keep an eye out."

"The Bible freak outside," Dean realized, and Alex immediately knew as to which "Bible freak" he was referring to. "He, what, dropped a dime on us?"

"Onward, Christian soldiers," was the only answer he received, and Alex wanted to cut the angel's head from his shoulders. She hated him. Almost as much as she hated Barachiel and Raphael.

"Send us back, you son of a bitch," she breathed, glaring at him as she freed her weapon. "Send us _back_."

"Oh, you'll get back," Zachariah said, folding up the newspaper with a pleasant look. "We want you to marinate a bit. Three days, guys. Three days to see where this course of action will take you - courtesy of Dean, of course." He grinned. "Choices have consequences. This is what happens to the world if you continue to say 'no' to Michael. Have a little look-see."

And then Zachariah was gone.

Grumbling, Alex put her blade away. "I should have acted faster."

"Nah," Dean sighed. "We wouldn't have been able to get back. Hopefully Cas will figure something out and get us back sooner. Where the hell are we time-wise then? The future? How _far_ in the future?"

"Don't know," Alex said, looking back out the window. "I hope Bobby's there. He'll know what to do." She lifted a hand to her lips and began to gnaw on her fingernails. Anxiety was building in her chest, threatening to drown her. _Please be okay._

* * *

Alex's hopes were destroyed almost immediately when Alex and Dean walked into Bobby's house and found his wheelchair on its side, dried blood decorating the back of it. Neither said anything about it; Dean merely questioned the nonexistent Bobby where everyone was before digging his father's journal out of Bobby's desk. After finding a picture complete with Bobby, Castiel, and some men they didn't recognize, they decided on a destination based off of the sign in the picture.

"Camp Chitaqua," Dean declared that night as they approached the sign that had been in the picture. Alex had her blade out, ready to fend off anyone that tried to attack them. He pressed his lips together as they studied it before moving on. "Get down," he muttered quietly when he caught sight of men with guns just inside the fence, faces serious as they patrolled the perimeter.

Alex let out a soft breath of surprise. "Well, at least there's normal people still alive," she whispered, following the eldest Winchester.

Dean led the way a few feet further around the compound before letting out a soft curse. Alex followed his gaze and then made a soft sound of horror. "Oh, Baby, _no_ ," Dean groaned as he approached his Impala, which was battered and rusted. It looked as if it had been abandoned and Dean's face filled with pain as he leaned in through the shattered driver-side window. "Oh, no, Baby, what did they do to you?"

Alex turned away to watch for Croatoans as he murmured to the car, a little wary of how sentiment he seemed to think the once-beautiful vehicle was. She liked the Impala. A lot. But _damn_ , he was crooning to it like it was trying to beg a lover for forgiveness-

A soft shift in grass followed by a crack as something struck something else had Alex whirling around in time to see Dean collapsing, unconscious. "Dean-" she snarled, lunging forward, blade angled for a defensive strike, but she stumbled in surprise at the shocked face that turned to her. "Dean?" she repeated, this time a question as she stared at an exact replica of the man she'd been following around for the last few years.

"Alex?" he muttered in response, looking beyond shocked. His gaze narrowed as he studied her, as if scanning her for injuries. "What the hell are you doing out here? You said you were going to make-" He cut off, narrowing his eyes in realization. "You're not Alex."

Alex uttered a low, deep growl, worried by the sudden furious look that crossed over this strange Dean's face. He lunged and for the first time, Alex truly found herself fighting against a Winchester. He slammed into her like a freight train, and Alex yelped as she was sent tumbling to the ground, rolling a few feet and losing hold of her blade. It clattered uselessly a few feet away. She began the desperate wrestle to free herself at the same time that he tried to pin her, his gaze furious. She drew on strength that she usually didn't need to, keeping her mouth clamped tightly shut just to make sure she didn't spit by accident into one of the cuts she could see on his arm. She gave a muffled grunt as she kneed him in the stomach - only for something heavy to strike her jaw.

A yelp escaped her, pain blistering up her face.

A second blow brought darkness.

* * *

When Dean came to, he had somewhat of a splitting headache. He grimaced, swearing under his breath as he realized he'd been handcuffed to the floor of a cabin that didn't seem very large. He swallowed thickly, slowly glancing around without moving. He wanted to get a handle on his bearings before he truly "woke up."

That plan went out the window when he realized Alex was nowhere in sight and there was another version of him sitting on a bed, cleaning a gun with sharp eyes locked onto him. "The hell?" Dean muttered, sitting up.

The other Dean gave a tight, unhappy smile. "I should be asking that, don't you think?" he said sharply. "In fact, why don't you give me one good reason why I shouldn't gank you right here and now?"

"Because you'd only be hurting yourself?" Dean suggested faintly, being entirely honest about the fact. His other self wasn't amused and merely glared. "Look, man. I'm not a shapeshifter, or a demon, or...or anything like that. Okay? Where's Alex?"

He didn't get the answer to his question. Ignoring him, his other self drawled, "I know you're not some supernatural creature. "Silver, salt, holy water...nothing. But you know what was funny?" He set his gun beside his leg, leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees. He narrowed his eyes irritably. "You had every hidden lockpick, box cutter, and switchblade that I carry. Now, you want to explain that? Oh, and the resemblance while you're at it?"

Dean studied him closely. "Zachariah," he said finally, and the other Dean shot to his feet, face darkening. "I'm you from the tail end of 2009," Dean told him hastily. "He plucked Alex and me from bed and threw us five years into the future."

The other Dean's jaw worked furiously as he demanded, "Where is he? I want to talk to him."

"I don't know. Now, where's Alex?" Dean shifted a little. "We want to get back to our own friggin' year, okay?"

"Okay," the other Dean mused, thinking for a moment. Dean was somewhat helpful that his other self would let him free, trusting him, but he should have known himself better. Instead of uncuffing him, the other Dean said sharply, "If you're me, then tell me something only I would know. _Then_ I might tell you where Alex is."

"Rhonda Hurley," Dean said after thinking for a minute, smirking. "We were nineteen and she made us try on her panties. They were pink and satiny. And you know what? We kind of liked it."

"Ooh," a voice interrupted and both of them looked over. "I won't be forgetting that any time soon." The other Dean groaned in despair as Dean stared at the smug woman that had appeared, her good blue eye bright with delight. Alex, clearly, Dean knew immediately, but her hair was longer, tumbling around her shoulders in long waves. She held herself a bit more confidently then he was used to. The Alex he knew was still dealing with the scars she held, unhappy about displaying them to strangers. She cocked her head and swept her gaze over Dean. "Aw. I forgot how full of hope you were."

"Alex," the other Dean grumbled, and she merely smiled cheekily before informing him, "Problem's been dealt with. Nearly lost my bloody hand."

"What problem?" Dean demanded, angry.

He was ignored. Instead, his other self told the not-Alex, "Zachariah supposedly sent them." She nodded slowly, unsurprised, and he continued with, "I guess she wasn't lying then? I mean, unless they came up with a damn good story…"

She tapped her nose. "I think they're telling the truth." She turned her gaze on Dean. The future Alex's lips curved into a wide smirk as she studied him. She puckered her lips, and Dean was taken aback by how much of a friendly mood she seemed to be in compared to his own future self. "Still, seriously bloody cute. So. Zachariah sent you to see how bad it gets?"

Dean shrugged awkwardly, pointedly tugging on his cuff. They ignored it. "I guess. Croatoan virus, right? That's their endgame?"

"It's efficient," the other Dean said gruffly, glancing up when the future Alex came to stand beside him, leaning her hip on the footboard of the bed. He turned his attention back onto Dean. "It's incurable. And it's scary as hell."

"It started attacking the major cities almost two years ago," the other Alex added in. "It really went to hell in a bloody handbasket after that." She glanced at her Dean. "Should I go get the others out to the cars?"

He contemplated and then gave a curt nod. "Straight there. Nowhere else."

"Got it." She touched his arm, and Dean's eyes narrowed as he studied the undeterminable expression on their faces. After a moment, the other Alex flashed him a mischievous smile and then sauntered out the door she'd come in through, calling, "See you in a minute."

Dean was quiet for a moment, and then he demanded, "The hell?" He was ignored, so he decided to change the subject. "What about Sam?"

His future self let out a gust of agitated breath and said sharply, "Heavyweight showdown in Detroit. From what I understand, he didn't make it."

Dean was horrified. "You weren't with him?'

"No." He shifted uncomfortably, looking a little sad about it before hiding the sadness well. "Me and Sam, we haven't talked in...hell, five years."

Something twisted in Dean's chest. "We never tried to find him?"

"We had other people to worry about. We still do." The other Dean stood swiftly and tucked his gun safely away. Dean watched in confusion as he quietly gathered a few various weapons. His eyes narrowed and when he demanded where he was going, the other Dean said simply, "I've gotta run an errand."

"Wait, you're just gonna leave me here? What about Alex?" he demanded.

"She's in the bathroom, she's fine," he said with a careless wave of his hand. "You're staying right here. I've gotta camp full of twitchy trauma survivors out there with an apocalypse hanging over their heads. The last thing they need to see is a version of _The Parent Trap_. So yeah, you're stayin' locked down." He made sure he had everything, and then scowled when Dean demanded to know if he trusted himself. "No," he retorted, "absolutely not."

And then he left, stepping out the door the future Alex had gone out of moments before.

"Dick," Dean muttered, feeling along the floor with his hands. He found a nail and pried it from the floorboards after a long few strenuous minutes, and smirked. Within moments, he was on his feet, rubbing his wrists and striding for the only other door in the room. _Bathroom_ , he decided, opening the door.

Alex was sprawled out on the ground, blearily starting to come 'round. Dean crouched near her feet, giving her foot a sharp yank. "Wake up, puppy, we've got some interesting things goin' on."

"I'd say," she said, voice slurring. She touched her head with a flinch and Dean blinked in shock at the sight of the bruises blossoming along her jaw. She hissed, grimacing, and then grunted in pain when it tugged at the injury. "Bloody hell. You pack quite the punch. But you smell right."

"That's...nice." Dean tilted his head a little, still crouched as she sat up with care, swearing colorfully under her breath. She looked ill, dizzy even. "The hell happened to you?"

"You did. Or, at least, something that looked like you." She blinked, puzzled. "Shapeshifter?"

"Nope." Dean grinned a little. "Me. Future me. Five years in the future me. Who happens to be a _dick_. You're hanging around, too." He stood and Alex slowly hauled herself to her feet, thinking this over. "C'mon. I want to get out of here. They're out doing some kind of errand. S'a couple of things I learned from myself that you might want to hear. Not much that we didn't kind of already know, but."

"Sure. Just...give me a moment." Alex hissed as she touched her jaw gently. "Bloody hell, Winchester. You punched me!"

"I did not," he denied, "that wasn't me. Well, it was, but…" He furrowed his brow. "Broken?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't think so." She tugged at the chains on her wrist and grunted when she realized that bandages had been wrapped around her arm, wrist, and hand to protect it from silver chains that had been keeping her tied to the a bar in the bathtub. She scowled. "I can't undo these. Could you?" She held her arm out.

Dean wordlessly went to work, undoing the chains. It took a hot minute, mostly because Dean accidentally dropped part of the chain right onto a portion of her hand that had come free from the bandages, earning a snarl of pain when the silver seared into her. "They must have made these," he muttered, "'cause entirely silver chains are hard to come by."

"They were smart," she admitted. "Then again, they're us."

"True," Dean agreed, and then climbed to his feet. "C'mon. Let's go check this place out."

They easily left the cabin a few moments later, becoming wary once they were outside. Alex's nostrils flared as she breathed in deeply, taking in various scents and seeking out any dangerous ones. She'd smelled the sourness of Croatoans when she'd been attacked earlier in the day, and she didn't want to smell it again. She'd never dealt with anything like them before.

She didn't want to find out if they'd infect her like they infected others.

In fact, if she could stay away from them for as long as she lived…

She was perfectly fine with that.

They'd barely been sidling around for more than a few minutes when there was a call of, "Hey, Dean! Alex! You got a second?"

"Chuck?" Alex breathed in surprise as the very same man approached. His hair and beard were a wild mess, his sleeves rolled partially up his arms as he shifted anxiously back and forth before them. He smiled faintly at Alex, cocking his head a little in curiosity.

"Did you get your haircut?" he asked, bewildered. "You said you were going to try it long. See if you could make it into a weapon or something."

"Uh...yes?" she said uncertainty, looking to Dean for backup. He nodded encouragingly and then focused when Chuck shrugged, but turned to him.

"So, uh, listen," Chuck began, folding his arms. He looked at the ground as he spoke, not entirely happy sounding. "We're pretty good on canned goods for now, but we're down to next to nothing on perishables and...and hygiene supplies. People aren't gonna be happy about this. What do you think we should do?"

"I," Dean said, sounding even more uncertain than Chuck, "don't know. Maybe...share? You know, like at a kibbutz."

Chuck stared openly, and then narrowed his eyes in confusion after a long moment. "Wait a minute, aren't you supposed to be out on a mission right now? You, too," he added, frowning at Alex.

"Absolutely," she piped up, smiling briefly. "We will be." She suddenly lit up and hastily asked, "Hey, Chuck, is Cas still here?" Dean's expression shifted into a startled but eager look. Surely Castiel would know what to do with this situation.

To her surprise, Chuck made a sound of disgust. "Yeah," he muttered, inclining his head towards a cabin that was a good ways off. "I don't think he's going anywhere. I'll see you guys around, I guess. Be careful on your mission."

Dean nodded curtly, nudging Alex towards the cabin that supposedly belonged to Castiel. "Come on," he muttered, waving a little to Chuck as they headed for it. Chuck watched after them with a wary, suspicious expression before shaking his head and continuing on his way.

"Do you think he might know anything?" Alex demanded in a lowered voice, head ducked a little to hide her mouth should anyone look over. "I mean, he's an angel. Whether he be in this time or ours."

"I hope so," Dean muttered. "I want to get back. I don't need to see the rest of this to know we need to find Sam. I don't like that the other me doesn't know what happened to him."

"I wish you would have realized this at three this morning," Alex said rather sharply, climbing the small flight of stairs. Her expression changed to one of confusion as she heard several voices, muffled, coming from the cabin. She cocked her head to try and hear better, but gave up and lifted a fist to knock on the front door, but Dean just pushed his way inside fearlessly.

She sighed and stepped in after him, nearly crashing into him when he stopped suddenly. She peered around him - and then stared. Castiel - or, at least, she _thought_ it was Castiel, because he certainly didn't look like the awkward trench coat-wearing angel she remembered - was sitting in a circle with several women, who all looked up at Dean and Alex in surprise. "Oh," Castiel said suddenly, "excuse me, ladies. I think I need to confer with our fearless leader for a minute. Why not go get washed up?"

"What," Alex breathed, "the bloody hell."

Dean was speechless, only demanding as the women left unhappily, "What are you, a hippie?"

He threw Dean a disgruntled look after stretching with a grunt. "I thought you were done trying to label me." He squinted suddenly at Dean, cocking his head to the side, and Alex saw a flicker of realization race over his face. "Strange. You are not you. Not now you, anyway."

"No," Dean agreed. A pause. "Yeah, exactly."

Castiel furrowed his brow, and then turned a careful look on Alex. She lifted her chin as he asked, "What year are you from?" Alex informed him that they were from 2009, and Castiel slowly nodded. "Who did this to you? Zachariah?"

"Yes," Alex said, and Castiel merely responded with an uncommitted "Interesting."

"Oh, yeah," Dean said, scowling, and Alex grimaced as his temper began to make an appearance. "Friggin' fascinating. So why don't you strap on your angel wings and fly us back to our page on the calendar."

Castiel stiffened, and then turned away. "I wish I could just strap on my wings, but I'm sorry, no dice." He began to shuffle through a series of drawers, as if searching for something. Dean questioned if he was stoned, and he admitted, "Generally, yeah."

"Oh, Cas," Alex said sorrowfully as Dean just shook his head and stormed from the cabin. "What happened to you?"

"Life," he muttered, clearly no longer in the mood for conversation. Alex faltered, opening her mouth to speak, but Castiel cut her off sharply. "Please leave."

"Okay," she murmured. She hesitated after turning to leave, and then shook her head and went after Dean. He was grumpy now, and she didn't dare leave him on his own for too long. He'd end up in pieces, torn apart for screwing up in some way.

The sound of vehicles returning to the compound caught her attention and Alex found Dean - the one she'd arrived in this year with - crossing the nearby grassy area they'd met Chuck in, fully intending to return to the cabin they'd originally been dragged to. He paused to look over as a jeep and car entered the compound, stopping as gates were shut, closing them in.

Alex didn't dare move, frozen just in front of Castiel's cabin. Not that he could be considered Castiel. Not in the way he was now. She tried to picture what could have turned the God-hunting proud angel into a drug addict who participated in sex with multiple women, but couldn't. Her wide-eyed gaze watched as the future Dean climbed out along with a few other men and women, her own other self immediately beginning to retreat for the cabin they'd originally been brought to with dark look on her face. The other Dean didn't seem to notice, merely tossing a beer to another man.

Alex realized they'd been caught when the other Alex froze, staring at Dean and then snapping her gaze over to where her past self was staring. Her lips curled back in anger, but she was cut off by Dean suddenly shouting, "Hey! Hey, watch out-"

A moment later, there was a gunshot. Alex stared.

The future Dean had gunned down the very man he'd been sharing a beer with, and she could only gawk openly even as the other Alex barreled towards Dean to try and shove him out of view before anyone could see him. But it was too late; people were staring at him, then looking between the pair of matching men. One caught sight of her, and then the pair of skinwalkers were being stared at, too.

"Damn it," she barely heard the future Dean swear before lifting his voice. "I'm not gonna lie to you. It's a pretty messed-up situation we got going right now, but believe me. When you need to know something, you will know it. Until then…" He turned a dark look on his past self. "We all have work to do."

* * *

Dean grunted as he was shoved into the room he'd once been cuffed up in, and Alex skittered in behind him on her own, taking note that the future Dean didn't even attempt to shove at her. "What the hell was that?" he bellowed, and Alex saw her future self sigh as she entered, running a hand through her long hair and grabbing his arm.

"Dean," her future self murmured warningly. "Watch it."

He shrugged her off, even as Dean stood up to his anger and shouted, "What the hell was _that_? You just shot a guy! In cold blood!" Sure, he'd killed innocent people unintentionally - people possessed and such. But like that? _Never_.

"We were in an open quarantine zone," the future Alex said suddenly, unflinching when his desperate look turned on her. "We were ambushed by Croats." When he only made a questioning sound, she smiled faintly at him and added, "Croatoans. One of them infected the poor guy." She tapped her nose. "Dean...well, our Dean saw the signs and I confirmed it. After a few years, you know."

"Started seeing the symptoms half an hour ago. Wasn't gonna be long before he flipped, and I didn't see the point in troubling a good man with bad news," the other Dean muttered gruffly, looking unhappy with how nice the woman was being to the pair before them.

"'Troubling a good man,'" Dean muttered under his breath in disbelief. Louder, eh said, "You just...blew him away in front of your own people. Didn't it freak 'em out a little bit?"

"It's 2014," he replied snappily. "Plugging some Croat, it's called commonplace. Trading words with my friggin' clone, though? Might have freaked 'em out."

" _Dean_ ," the other Alex said warningly a second time. "Calm down. Getting agitated won't help anyone." He shot her a look that she met with a glare of her own. They stared one another down before she told the pair, taking in her silent counterpart, "Look, this isn't your time. It's ours. You don't know what you need to know yet, which means you can't make proper decisions. We do. And when one of us says you stay in...you stay in."

"We're sorry," Alex murmured, admitting the phrase Dean would never say. "We're not trying to mess everything up. We're just...confused."

"I know." The other Dean's face softened a fraction, and she furrowed her brow, turning a curious look on them as a pair. No, she realized, sitting back a little with widening eyes. Not just a pair. More than that. She couldn't place the nature of the pair's relationship as they went to grab something quickly, and Alex glanced at the Dean she'd been with for the last two, maybe three years. He was just staring at his feet thoughtfully agitated.

Alex took one look at the way her future self leaned in and murmured something to him, to which the other Dean snorted and ruffled her hair, earning a snap of his companion's jaws, and decided it was friends at the least, much, much more being just as possible.

"Here," the other Alex offered a moment later, sauntering back over with two glasses of alcohol. She passed one to each of them, and Alex took the alcohol gratefully. So did Dean. The other Dean passed a glass to her future self, and they all took a moment to take a swift drink.

Finally, Dean asked, studying his glass, "What was the mission?"

The pair exchanged a glance, and the other Dean gave a curt nod. The other Alex smiled and retrieved something from a holster hidden at her back, waving it a little in front of her with a smug smirk.

Dean recognized it immediately, and Alex breathed, "The Colt."

"Where was it?" Dean demanded.

"Everywhere," was the future Dean's response. He seemed reluctant to admit it, but a nudge of the future Alex's elbow convinced him to speak. He glared at her and she threw him a playful smile in response. "They've been moving it around. Took us five years, but...we finally got it. And tonight...tonight, I'm gonna kill the devil."

* * *

"So, that's it?" A woman named Risa, who kept throwing Alex and her future self nasty looks, demanded the question with a disappointed look on her face. "That's the Colt?"

The other Dean, who stood at the head of the group fearlessly with the gun in his hand, nodded firmly and said, "If anything can kill Lucifer, this is it."

"Great," Risa said dryly, folding her arms. Her dark hair tumbled into her eyes, which glittered with irritation. "Have we got anything that can _find_ Lucifer?"

"What the bloody hell is your problem?" the future Alex snapped, growling softly under her breath. Risa shot her a look and the pair of women bristled at one another. The other Dean threw them exasperated looks and called Alex's name sharply, warning her to please cut it out. Dean and Alex, standing side by side, exchanged wary looks.

It was odd, seeing your future self control the future self of your companion.

After an awkward moment, the future Alex said with exaggerated patience, "We don't have to find Lucifer. We know where he is, remember? The demon that we caught last week, he was one of the devil's entourage." She lifted her chin a little, practically looking down on Risa. "He knew."

"So...a demon tells you where Satan is gonna be, and you just believe it?"

"Oh, trust me," the other Dean purred. "He wasn't lying."

Alex watched her future self shift her weight unhappily as Castiel drawled irritably, as if seeking to bother Dean, although he didn't seem to care which one, "Our fearless leader, I'm afraid, is all too well schooled in the art of getting to the truth."

"Torture?" Dean muttered. "So we're torturing again. That's nice." He received a nasty look. "No! That's...that's good. Classy."

"Dean," Alex hissed, and then stiffened when Castiel began to laugh softly. It earned him a reproachful look from the other Alex and a scowl from the other Dean. "What?" he said with a shrug, folding his arms. "I like past you. Much more...fun."

"Anyways," the other Alex said quietly, running her fingers thoughtfully over the inside of her arm. "Lucifer is here. Now, I checked out the block, and Dean knows the building." Her good eye flickered anxiously as she indicated a map that the other Dean had put down on a table before all of them. She touched a spot. "I know it's right in the middle of a hot zone, and the plan is somewhat reckless, but…"

"Are you saying," Castiel said with somewhat less of an attitude directed at her "that we walk straight up the driveway, go past all of the demons and the Croats, and we shoot the devil?"

"Yes," the other Dean said confidently. The once-angel scowled and glared at him. "Are you not coming then, Cas?"

"Of course I am," was Castiel's answer as he turned his sharp gaze on the pair of hunters from the past. "But why are they? I mean, if they're you five years ago and something happens to them, you two are gone, right?"

Alex exchanged a look with Dean, wary, and both were somewhat surprised when the other Dean said flatly, "They're coming. I want us loaded and on the road by midnight." He gave both Risa and Castiel looks that had them reluctantly leaving to start preparations. Risa shot the future Alex - and the other one - one final dark look before leaving.

"What's her problem?" Alex muttered.

The other Alex smirked a little and told her, "Don't worry about it. She's a twit is all."

"Alex," the other Dean warned.

Alex snickered. It was somewhat entertaining; the pair were constantly trying to keep the other mellowed out and getting upset when the action was turned on them. The future Dean turned his attention onto Dean, who was staring suspiciously at him. "Relax. You'll be fine. Zach's looking after you, right?"

"I don't give a damn about that." Dean thought about how to word his demand. Finally, he said, "I want to know what's going on."

"Yeah, okay," he agreed, surprisingly willing to spill the information. "You're coming because I want you to see something...our brother." The other Alex dropped her gaze as Dean gaped at him.

"I thought he was dead," Alex said uncertainty, shifting her weight. "Is...is he alright then?"

"Sam didn't die," the other Dean answered curtly, "he said 'yes.' To Lucifer. He's wearing Sam to the prom." The future Alex pressed her lips together unhappily at the way he was putting it.

"We don't have a choice now," she said quietly, meeting her companion's gaze. They remained like that for a long moment. Eventually, she turned a pointed look on Alex, who understood what she was being told immediately. _Please don't let this happen again_. "Lucifer's in him, and...there's no getting him out, Dean. We have no choice right now. You...both of you need to see this...all of it, how bad it gets. So you can do it differently."

Alex's stomach churned as Dean said uncertainly, "What do you mean?"

"Zach said he was gonna bring you back, right?" the other Dean said, resting his elbows on the table. Alex arched a brow when her counterpart simply rested her own on his shoulder, as if this was a common action for the pair. "To oh-nine?" Dean nodded. "Well, when you get back home...you say it. You hear me? You say 'yes' to Michael."

The other Alex's jaw worked furiously at this, but she said nothing, and Dean said hotly, "That's crazy! If I let him in, then Michael fights the devil. The battle's gonna torch half the planet."

"Look around you, man," the future Dean said sharply, "half the planet's better than no planet, which is what we have no. If I could do it over again, I'd say 'yes' in a heartbeat. And don't think I haven't _tried_. I've shouted it till I was blue in the face! They're not listening. The angels just left...gave up!"

" _Dean_ ," the other Alex hissed, looking agitated and upset by the idea. As if she hadn't known he'd done that. She glowered at him. "When the bloody hell did you do that?!" He waved her off as if it didn't matter, and she snatched her arm away and stormed out of the cabin they'd been using to plan. Alex watched after her for a moment, then turned a warning look on her own partner-in-crime, warning him silently to behave before jogging after her. Admittedly, she wanted to know more. Details. About how her life had turned out in this world, and maybe some other things that she could do differently.

The future Dean looked a little guilty now, watching after them. "I was cocky. Never thought I'd lose. But I was wrong. Dean," he continued, looking back at him. "I'm begging you. For Sam's sake." He faltered. "For Alex's. Say 'yes.' Please."

* * *

Alex tracked the other Alex with ease to where she'd gone, slipping off into one of the darker areas of Camp Chitaqua. Likely because no one else, who could barely see in the darkness, would go, worried that one of the Croats would break in. The other skinwalker was leaning against a tree, waiting, and Alex realized a moment later that she'd fully intended for her to follow.

Without waiting, the other Alex said sharply, "You do not let either of them say yes."

Alex furrowed her brow. "I wasn't aware I had control over either of them."

Her lips quirked a little in amusement before she softened her voice and said, accent sharpening in her distress, "Please, don't let either of them say yes. Maybe it'll change some things that I love for you. But you can't let them say yes, Alex." Her voice grew hoarse, full of grief. "I wish someone had come along and told me this in your year. You just...don't. It hurts everyone a lot, but...look what Sam saying yes did to Cas. To himself. To _Dean_."

Alex studied her, the hurt in her face from realizing what the other Dean had done, and she wondered again just how close they were. It made her want to giggle, thinking of herself doing such a thing. But at the same time...here she was. In front of herself, as she was clearly trying to recover from the shock of being informed that Dean had _tried_ to say 'yes' to Michael.

Likely because it would have left her alone with a drug addict for an angel and no one else.

Alex could understand her reasons for being upset.

After a moment, Alex said, "Okay. I won't."

"Thank you." The future Alex turned her face away, tucking her long hair behind her ears. She took a deep breath, as if inhaling the fresh year. "I don't know what'll happen when we go after Sam...I mean, when we go after Lucifer." Her gaze flickered with pain at the reminder. "But stay back. I don't want you or Dean hurt."

Alex took in the her from the future and said, "You're so...calm. Quiet. _Gentle_." She said the word with a hint of disgust. "Where the bloody hell is our _fire_? The only hint I've seen is when you were talking with Risa."

She responded with a grin. "Still there. Just...hidden away for what it's needed for. And Risa's just jealous. I got something she wanted and she still hasn't forgiven me." She ran her fingers thoughtfully over a scar that crossed just barely over the bridge of her nose. "You don't need to fight everything. Your year was the year that Matt died, yes?" Alex stiffened, a growl building in her throat. "I'll take that as a yes. I remember that well. I remember that, and trying to kill Barachiel, and Raphael…" She shook her head. "All within days of one another, just days before Sam gave us the call and said yes a few months later." She smiled. "We tried to fight everything after that. Even fought Dean for a good year or so after Sam said yes." She wiggled her fingers. "Other than them saying yes, trust me and let everything go as it will. You have good things in the future, Al." She grinned. " _Really_ good things that have to deal with men."

Alex's jaw dropped for a moment. Finally, she said, cheeks flushed a little, "Are you serious right now?"

The other Alex chuckled and responded with a simple purred, "Believe me when I say there are some things you won't regret," before sauntering back towards the cabin, her face losing its smile as she prepared to confront the other Dean. She paused, hoever, and then said firmly, "Seriously though, Alex. You don't have to fight everything. Just...the monsters. And, I suppose, the wankers and Cas when they're being horrible. You'll see."

Alex found herself alone in the darkness of the camp, listening to the chirping of crickets. She tilted her head back to look and found herself confronted with an amazing view of the stars. Her heart twisted a little as she thought of how Tessa had loved the stars, claiming they were like fireflies that never went away.

For just a moment, Alex was at peace.

And then there was a call of her name - Dean, she realized, and likely the Dean from 2009 if the irritation accompanying the call told her anything. Alex sighed and turned to head back in his direction. She paused, thinking about herself and Dean in the future once more, and made a face.

As if.

She silently went to find her hunting companion.

* * *

Dean and Alex didn't do much while waiting for the order to "move out" on this mission they were volunteered to go on. Alex got the general idea that most of the people she'd seen since they'd officially shown themselves were going with them, and even offered hesitantly to help, but was shooed away by the other Dean, who was overseeing everything. She arched a brow challengingly at how he did it.

Someone had become somewhat of a mouse, Alex decided, eventually just watching from the sidelines with Dean. She told him as much; he wasn't pleased.

"So," a voice said, making them jump. They both turned to peer at Chuck, who had come to join them with a quiet expression. Unlike many of the others, he didn't seem to mind them. He was even comfortable around them. Alex wondered how he'd ended up there, at Camp Chitaqua. If she and Dean had brought him there. "You two are really from oh-nine?"

Dean exchanged an uneasy look with Alex, but nodded. "Afraid so."

"Some free advice." Chuck watched the group that was gathering things. People were starting to get into cars, and Dean got the feeling they'd be leaving soon. "You ever get back there, you hoard toilet paper. You understand m? Hoard it like it's made of gold. 'Cause it is."

Alex began to chuckle under her breath and Dean cracked a grin. "Thank you, Chuck."

"You'll thank me alright," Chuck said darkly. "Mark my words."

Alex heard a call of their names and nudged Dean with her elbow. "I'll see you around," Dean told him.

"Goodbye, Chuck," Alex murmured, smiling at him. He searched her gaze long and hard before giving a small wave.

Dean climbed into a jeep that, much to his unhappiness, Castiel was driving, and Alex moved to follow him, but was called off by the other Dean. "You," he ordered, "are with me." He shot a dark look at Castiel, who scowled through the windshield as if he could hear them. "Believe me, you don't want to ride with him."

She sputtered. "Bloody hell, Winchester," she said crossly. "Are you serious?"

"Ye," he responded, not wearing the least bit of an amused look.

After a reluctant moment, Alex growled and glanced over her shoulder. She made a small scowl in Dean's direction, to which he frowned, and then turned her back on Castiel's vehicle and followed the other Dean to the truck he was in, accompanied with her own other self and several others. Alex was relieved when she was granted passenger seat, the only person beside her being the other Alex, who was driving.

She was entirely fine with sitting beside her future self.

* * *

It was daytime when the group of survivors arrived at the hot zone that the future people claimed held Lucifer, demons, and Croats. Dean swung out of his vehicle, troubled by Castiel, and was immediately handed a gun - a big gun. He grinned a little, running his hands over it as he was joined by Alex.

Alex let out a small whistle and then twirled her black blade in her hand. She was aware of how almost everyone zoned in on it from the second she freed it. Particularly the future Alex, who looked longingly at it and armed herself with a pistol.

Alex was willing to bet she'd lost her blade a long time ago, years ago.

She vowed to never let it out of her sight again in that case.

"Beautiful," Alex cooed, reaching out to touch the gun. "I want one. I'm getting my hands on one when we get back."

"You and me both," Dean said eagerly and then looked up when the other Dean called, "Let's get going." They joined in with the small group that started walking, easily keeping up - maybe even better, as they were a little bit healthier despite eating hamburgers and other such unhealthy foods day after day. Alex especially kept up, her skinwalker abilities keeping her at nearly full strength despite not having had anything to eat since their arrival outside of oatmeal that had been so bland, she'd handed it off to someone else.

"'Jackson County Sanitarium,'" she read aloud from a sign. "How...reassuring to know the devil chose a sanitarium."

"Like a creepy movie. Or the weird video games I used to play," a young man with a gun told her in agreement, earning a small smile from Alex.

"There," the future Dean said suddenly. "Second-floor window. We go in there."

Risa, her own arms laden with a shotgun, asked, "Are you sure about this?"

And despite the animosity that clearly existed between Risa and Alex - whether it be the future one or the one from 2009 - the future Alex gently smiled at her and reassured, "Don't worry, Risa. I'll be there. They'll never see us coming. Trust us. Now, weapons check. We're on the move in five, okay?"

Dean suddenly spoke up, eyes narrowing in realization. Alex glanced at him, suspicious immediately when he said, "Hey, uh, _me_. Can I talk to you for a sec?" To Alex, he muttered, "Stay with...yourself, I guess, but don't go in until I get back. Something's not right."

Alex nodded curtly. "Got it," she agreed, flaring her nostrils. There _was_ a distinct lack of Croatoans and demons out and about, which she supposed meant-

"Oh," she breathed.

"Oh," Dean agreed and then was joined b the future Dean. Together, they walked a short ways away, disappearing behind a car. Dean's jaw worked furiously and the second that he was sure they weren't going to be overheard, he said tightly, "You're lying. To these people, to me...I know your lying expressions, I've seen them in the mirror. What are you not telling us?"

The future Dean said nothing, merely worked his jaw furiously and said nothing.

Dean shook his head, somewhat shocked with himself. Finally, he said sharply, "It's a trap. I know it is. The place should be crawling with Croats and they've pretty much cleared a path for us. We can't go through the front."

"Oh, we're not." His eyes flickered. "They are. They're the decoys. You and me, we're going in through the back."

"You mean you're gonna feed your friends into a meat grinder? Cas? _Alex_?" The future Dean avoided looking at him. "You want to use their deaths as a diversion? Oh, man, something is broken in you. You're making decisions that I would never make. I wouldn't sacrifice my friends. These people...they trust you, _count on you_."

"You're right. You wouldn't. It's one of the main reasons we're in this mess, actually." He gave a bitter laugh, looking at the ground. When he lifted his head, he said, "They trust me to kill the devil and to save the world. Alex knows. She agrees. It's what I'm gonna do."

"No," Dean said sharply, planting his feet. "Not like this, you're not. I'm not gonna let you."

"Then I'm sorry." Without warning, the other Dean slugged him with the butt of his gun and for the second time in mere days, knocked him out entirely. The other Dean looked down at him for a few moments, and then clenched his jaw. He had work to do.

 _Not a diversion,_ he told himself as he turned away and returned to where Alex and the others were waiting. The Alex from five years prior suddenly came around the side of the car before he'd gone very far, nostrils flared as she caught the smell of blood. He swore under his breath when he caught her by the shoulders.

They were both so _young_. They didn't know what he knew. What Alex knew.

"What did you _do_?" she snarled, teeth bared. Her blade gleamed wickedly in her hand. Her eyes locked on the unconscious man on the ground. "I _know_ what you're doing," she added when he didn't respond, "and you're just as much a dick in the future as you are now."

He clenched his jaw and told her through gritted teeth, "You don't get it. You haven't been through what we have." He released her and she glared at him for a moment before saying warningly, "Stay out here."

"No," she said sharply, ripping away. "I won't let these people die for you. That's _wrong_. That's not...that's not _you_."

"You haven't seen what he can do yet," he said with a wry smile, shaking his head. "You don't get it, do you? Nothing works. Well, except for that, but Cas managed to lose it somehow." He gestured to the blade in her hands. "I think it's trapped in the corpse of a Croat to be honest." He huffed irritably, thinking. Zachariah wouldn't let her die. She was their _Soldier_. Whatever that meant. The angels had disappeared before they'd ever figured it out. "Look, you come with me."

"No," she repeated, glaring up at him through her good blue eye. The other Dean glowered at her refusal. "I'm not...they can't just...how could you be okay with letting them walk in there like that? You'd kill yourself before…"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. You're coming with me. Or I'll knock you out like I did him." Without waiting for her agreement or refusal, he pushed past her. He had a final farewell to make, and apparently, she thought the same, because his Alex - the one from his year, 2014 - was leaning against a tree stump that had cut off awkwardly. She met his gaze, then shifted it to herself, who was reluctantly following him. "She's with me," he said in explanation.

The future Alex nodded and then straightened, approaching him. Her expression was tight with unhappiness as she gripped the jacket he wore, loosely tugging on the fabric to make sure his attention was on her. "Don't let him fool you. I'm not sacrificing myself so that you can lose, do you understand me? You kick that bloody devil's arse, and you make damn sure he's dead."

He nodded. "I will."

"Good." She took a deep breath, shaken. She very clearly wasn't looking forward to what was about to happen to them. "I'll see you on the other side, Winchester." A pause. "Maybe. Skinwalkers probably don't go to Heaven, do they? Castiel will know. I'll ask him."

Without pause, the other Alex rose on her toes and lightly pressed her lips to his. He responded gently, cupping her face and running a thumb over the line of her jaw. He looked almost mournful when she pulled away, grinning briefly at the way her counterpart's face had twisted in horrified disgust. "Don't mock it," she said faintly, "until you try it." She turned her attention back onto him and lightly tugged again on his jacket before releasing him. "Ta," she murmured, and then turned away, calling, "Okay, guys! Let's roll out!"

Alex opened her mouth, slammed it shut, and then sputtered, "You...we…"

He smirked a little, waiting until the other Alex was gone, and then checked the gun in his hand. The Colt looked a little beat up, Alex noticed, but worked just fine. It was loaded with the bullets they needed. "Alright," he muttered, turning back. "What she said. Let's go."

* * *

Dean awoke to the sound of gunfire coming from the sanitorium building and swore under his breath as he rocketed to his feet. A thousand thoughts crossed through his mind, but none seemed to be very important as a clap of thunder was followed by lightning streaking from the sky. He found himself bolting, heading for the back entrance. It was too late for the people in there. He could feel it.

But he knew instinctively where he needed to be and he'd barely rounded the building, slipping through a garden gate and entering a strange little yard. He skidded to a stop. His eyes widened briefly when he saw that Alex was nowhere to be found and that his future self was on the ground, a foot atop his neck. One quick shift from the foot's owner was followed by a snap, and then he was dead.

"Sam," Dean rasped, and the person who'd killed him turned around.

"Oh," he replied, and Dean knew immediately that Sam wasn't home. "Hello, Dean." Lucifer grinned a little and nearly crooned, "Aren't you a surprise." Lightning flashed, a clap of thunder a second later. Dean would have laughed at what he was wearing at any other time. A white suit, crisp and clean despite being in the middle of nowhere and having just killed someone. Lucifer cocked his head. "You've come a long way to see this, haven't you? You just missed little Alex. I don't know where she went, but she disappeared. I believe she went home."

"Go ahead," Dean challenged without responding to the taunt. "Kill me."

"Kill you?" Lucifer mused, looking down at the other Dean's body. He prodded at it with the toe of his shoe. "Don't think that would be a little...redundant? I'm sorry," he sighed, turning his attention onto other matters. "It must be painful, speaking to me in this shape. But it had to be your brother. It had to be." He turned, reaching out to touch Dean's shoulder, and he yanked back a few steps. His face was emotionless. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Dean. What do you think I'm going to do?"

"I don't know," Dean snarled, "Deep-fry the planet?"

"Why?" Lucifer turned away, looking over the small area they occupied. He listened as a final gunshot rang out from the building nearby. "Why would I want to destroy this stunning planet? Beautiful in a trillion different ways. The last perfect work of God." He sighed softly, and when Dean didn't answer, he added, "You know why God cast me down? Because I loved Him. More than anything, and then He created _you_. The hairless apes. And then He asked all of us to bow down before you, to love you more than Him.

"'Father,' I told him, 'I can't. These human beings are flawed, murderous.'

"For that, God had Michael cast me into Hell." Lucifer turned his face to Dean, scowling. "Tell me. Does the punishment fit the crime? Especially when I was right? Look what six billion of you have done to this beautiful planet, and how many of you blame me for it."

Dean wasn't sympathetic and said darkly, "You're not fooling me. With this sympathy-for-the-devil crap. I know what you are. You're the same thing as us, only bigger. The same brand of cockroach I've been squashing my whole life. An ugly, evil, belly-to-the-ground, supernatural piece of crap. The only difference between them and you is the size of your ego."

Lucifer blinked, and then smiled. "I like you, Dean," he mused, and then turned away. "I get what the other angels see in you. Goodbye. We'll meet again soon." He turned to leave but Dean's snarled "You better kill me now!" stopped him. "Pardon?"

"You better kill me now," Dean said sharply, glaring at him. "Or I swear, I will find a way to kill you, and I won't stop."

Lucifer grinned. "I know you won't, and I know you won't say yes to Michael either. I know you won't kill Sam. Whatever you do, you will always end up here. Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, you will always end up - here. I win. So, I win. See you in five years, Dean."

And then he was gone.

Dean spun around in time for Zachariah planting two fingers on his forehead.

Between one second and the next, Dean found himself staggering in the hotel room he and Alex had been in, his hip slamming into a kitchen sink. Alex was nowhere in sight, and he immediately turned on Zachariah. "Oh, well," he snarled, "if it isn't the ghost of Christmas screw you. Where's Alex?"

"Here somewhere." Zachariah narrowed his eyes. "You saw it, right? You saw what happens. You're the only person who can prove the devil wrong. Just say yes."

"How do I know that this whole thing isn't one of your tricks?" Dean challenged. "Some angel hocus-pocus?"

"The time for tricks is over. Give yourself to Michael...say yes and we can strike before Lucifer gets to Sam and billions die." Dean pretended to think it over for a few moments and then smirked and shook his head. "'No?'" Zachariah snapped, furious. "You telling me you haven't learned your lesson?"

"Oh, I've learned a lesson, alright. Just not the one you wanted to teach." Dean narrowed his eyes, furious. Like hell he'd let his brother say 'yes' to Lucifer. And Dean sure as hell refused to say yes to Michael.

He'd make sure that they made their own way in life, not based off of what angels said.

Zachariah began to rant about about something or another, but his voice was replaced by silence and a groan of relief that came a split second later. Dean whirled around, spinning on his heel, blinking when he found himself confronted with Castiel, who looked agitated and perfectly normal with his suit and trench coat, and a relieved Alex, who suddenly whirled away from him, as if refusing to look at him.

"Pretty nice timing, Cas," Dean said, flashing him a grin.

"We had an appointment," Castiel said simply.

Dean planted a hand on his shoulder, clasping it warmly. "Don't ever change, Cas. Don't ever change." Alex rumbled her agreement. He pulled his phone from his pocket a moment later, turning away. He paced a few steps away, lifting it to his ear, and Alex watched him knowingly.

 _Calling Sam_ , she realized, and then turned to the puzzled Castiel. "Thanks, Cas," she said honestly, grabbing his shoulders and tugging him into a hug. He stiffened, incredibly uncomfortable with the sudden physical affection.

"I...do not understand. Why are you doing this?" he asked, wary. The pats he understood. The random touches and squeezes, too. But why _this_?

Alex laughed and pulled back, leaving her hands on his shoulders as she said, "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad to see you again. Seriously, thank you for helping us. Zachariah's a twat."

To her surprise, Castiel nodded. "Yes, I suppose he is."

Alex threw her head back and laughed.

* * *

It wasn't more than two days later that Alex found herself leaning over an overpass, peering at the creek it ran over. Dean had parked the Impala nearby and was leaning on it, watching her with a hint of amusement on his face. Alex pretended not to notice, instead focusing her thoughts on the future they'd seen.

She made a face at the memory of herself kissing him.

As if.

And even if she somehow miraculously was into him like that, which she _wasn't_ because they were barely even friends in his eyes, he'd never consider that type of relationship with someone who wasn't human. _Never_. That had been some kind of dream Zachariah had created to screw with them. She'd not said a single word to anyone on what she'd seen; she intended to keep it that way.

The rumbling of another engine had Alex straightening and returning to stand by Dean. She pried the passenger door open and settled into the seat with her jean-clad legs swung outside. Dean arched a brow, peering through the open window at her. She didn't respond.

A car, small and old, pulled into the bridge beside them and turned off. A moment later, Sam swung out of it. He eyed them warily, particularly Dean, and then approached hesitantly. He relaxed visibly when Alex waved with a grin, relieved.

"Sam," Dean said suddenly, pulling the demon knife from his jacket. Alex blinked; she didn't know they had that still. She'd thought it was with Sam. He held it out to Sam with the handle pointed at the younger of the brothers. "If you're serious and you want back in...you should hang onto this." He gave a faint, crooked smile. "I'm sure you're rusty."

Sam took the knife, refusing to look at Dean, and Dean cleared his throat before admitting, "Look, man, I'm sorry. I was...I'm...whatever I need to be. But I was wrong. We're all we've got. More than that. We keep each other human, and...even if they try to use us against each other, we shouldn't be apart."

"That's a first," Alex teased, lips twitching in amusing. "Dean Winchester admitting he's wrong."

"What made you change your mind?" Sam asked lowly. He looked upset, as if unsure if this was real or not, and Alex answered for Dean as she stood.

"Long story," she murmured. She ignored Dean's exasperated look as she interrupted his moment and drew Sam into a hug, nearly pulling a muscle as she craned her head back to mumble in his ear, "Welcome back." She added a moment later, "Please don't leave again."

Sam chuckled and patted her head awkwardly. "Thanks." He cleared his head, pulling back. "Really," he said, directing this to both of them. "Thank you. I won't let you guys down."

"Oh, we know it," Dean said, and Alex grinned when he drawled, "I mean, you are the second-best hunter on the planet."

Sam smiled briefly and then asked, "So. What do we do now?"

Alex cut in before Dean could speak, this time earning a glare. She barely took notice, merely tilted her head back to look at the clear sky. "We make our own future," she hummed, thinking of what her future self had said to her. "Mostly because we have no choice."

* * *

 _Holy hell a double update. A miracle has happened. I've been on a roll. I may or may not have written this in three days._

 _We actually had a Dean/Alex moment! Not very long nor the real pair, but it was there!  
_

 _Thanks to reviewers (_ _johnjohn1970 and RedVelvetPanPan!) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	35. Fallen Idols

"So...what's with this job?" Sam looked puzzled, unable to understand why they were taking a job, let alone this odd one in particular. In the back seat, Alex was curled up in her canine form, her eyes shut and her feet and nose twitching on occasion. Sam had been watching with amusement for nearly twenty minutes before asking his question. "I mean, a guy suffering a head-on collision in a parked car is interesting, but don't we have bigger problems?"

"I'm sure the apocalypse'll still be there when we get back," Dean said pointedly, rolling his eyes. He shifted his grip on the steering wheel. He smirked when a soft woofing sound escaped the skinwalker in the backseat. "Hasn't done that in a while. Must be really sleeping for once. Maybe havin' a good dream."

Sam eyed him. Since when did he care about that? Shaking his head, he continued with the serious question, "If the Colt is really out there somewhere-"

"Hey," Dean said sharply, beginning to get a little annoyed with his brother. "We've been looking for three weeks and we got nothin'. So this is what we're doing. Okay? End of discussion." Sam pressed his lips together and turned in his seat to look out the window, a little upset. "It's just that this is our first real case, back at it together. We oughta ease into it. Put the training wheels back on."

"So you think I need training wheels."

"No," Dean said sharply, " _we_. _We_ need training wheels. You, me, and Alex, too. As a team. Okay?"

"...okay," he finally agreed with a small nod.

Neither said anything more.

* * *

Alex bit back an agitated snarl as she watched Dean and Sam enter the sheriff's department without her, instead crossing her feet at the ankle and leaning her head against the frame of the Impala's open back door. She was bothered that they'd left her behind when going to chat with the sheriff of Canton, Ohio, but…

She understood somewhat that Dean wanted to do most of this one with Sam. And she was fine with that. The future had really shocked the guy, she realized, and she understood that he didn't want to screw things up. But _honestly_.

Alex waited there alone for nearly two hours, and by the time the idiots finally emerged from the sheriff's station, she was curled up in the backseat of the Impala, taking a well-needed nap. Dean tapped the window to catch her attention before sliding into the car, and Sam said as Alex shot upright, hair a mess and blue eyes bleary with sleep, "We're going to investigate a car."

"A _car_?" she yawned, shaking her head. "Why?"

"Because apparently," Dean said, "the guy had a cursed car." He seemed almost giddy with excitement and Alex gave him an odd look. "Little Bastard."

Alex eyed him. She liked cars - particularly his car - but she didn't like them _that_ much. "Nice."

Dean looked at her in horror, and Sam merely snorted as he said, "Let's just...go look at this car, and you can tell us all you want about it on the way, okay?"

Grumbling viciously under his breath, Dean started the Impala and declared, "I'm disappointed in both of you."

Alex, smirking, merely curled back up in the back seat and snickered, "Whatever you say, Winchester. Whatever you say."

* * *

From where Sam was standing with a leash that was connected to Alex in hand, he watched Dean circle and inspect the beautiful car before them while being careful not to touch it. He looked heartbroken whenever he saw the bloodstained area where the dead person's head had been. Alex flicked her ears and rolled her eyes. Idiot.

"So, what," Sam said, folding his arms. He threw Alex an apologetic look when he yanked on the leash by accident, and she huffed. "This is...like, Christine?"

"Christine is fiction," Dean told him, nearly crooning at the car. Alex wanted to slap him over the head. How could someone be so rude on a regular basis but this loving to a _car_ other than his own? "This...this is _real_." When Sam gave him a gesture to continue, he explained, "After James Dean died, his mechanic bought the wreckage and he fixed it up. And it repaid him by falling on him. Tony McHenry was killed when it locked up on the racetrack. I mean, death follows this car around like exhaust. Nobody touches it and comes away in one piece. Vanished off the back of a truck in the year of 1970, and no one's seen it since."

Alex pricked her ears in interest. She understood why the man was so fascinated now. The car itself was pretty, but...the story was almost more interesting.

"I'm telling you, man, if this car is Little Bastard," Dean finished, "I will bet you dollars to donuts it's what killed the guy."

Sam's lips kicked up at the corners when Alex snorted in confusion at this choice of words, and then asked his brother, "So how do we find out?"

"Engine number." Dean looked unhappy now, pulling away and rejoining them a short ways away from the car. "Which means we're gonna have to look under the car." He and Sam turned looks of trepidation on the vehicle now and Alex perked up, woofing impatiently.

Sam turned his face to her. "Do you want to do it?" he asked, surprised.

She nodded, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she watched him drop the least. She took off at a trot for the Impala. She'd get dressed there, and then come back into the garage in which the car had been stored. Bobby had shown her a thing or two when she'd stayed with him while Dean was in Hell. She was sure she could take care of the engine number. Dean started to argue with Sam, claiming that he wanted to do it, but Sam shushed him. "Let Alex do it for a change."

Dean folded his arms with a pout, not bothering to look after the skinwalker. "She doesn't even get the beauty of the car, Sam! It's not fair. She shouldn't get to do it. I was going to."

"What are you, three?" Sam snorted, and then listened in peaceful silence as his brother ranted over the lack of three-way agreement in the decision. When he caught sight of Alex coming back, her black leather jacket draped over her arm and her scarred face lit with determination, he waved.

"Alright, boys," Alex purred, draping her jacket over Sam's offered hand. He carefully tucked it under his arm, and she rolled the sleeves of her plaid fleece up, musing aloud that she'd begun to replicate their style. Dean ignored that, instead complaining, "Why are you doing it?"

"Because I'm going to show off the skills I've acquired," Alex replied, wiggling her fingers a little as she instructed him to retrieve everything she'd need. As Dean went to find a roller board for her to use beneath the car, Sam dug in his pockets for a pencil and pad, ripping a piece of paper out for her. "Thanks, Sam."

"No problem."

As she watched Dean turn to begin the trip back, board in hand, she said quietly, "I'm glad you're back. It wasn't as fun without you here."

Sam smiled a little and reached out to ruffle her hair in his way of thanks, earning him a half-hearted glare before Dean was slamming the roller board grumpily onto the ground. "Don't get crushed," he told Alex, and she flashed him a grin.

"I won't. Twat." She carefully got on her back, resting it gently on the roller board. She fidgeted making sure the pencil and paper were in place, and then pushed herself beneath the car they believed to be Little Bastard.

Beneath the car, Alex lost her confidence. It shuddered, and she flinched, but gently went to work on getting a rubbing of the engine number after finding it. The car shuddered a second time and she growled in response, jumping when Dean's voice called, "Need a flashlight?"

"No, don't do anything," she rumbled, glaring over her chest at him. He smirked at the sight of what might have been fear in her eyes, bent over on his knees to look beneath the vehicle. "I've got it, you bloody fool." He shrugged, and she snarled, "Don't even look at it, the car might not like it!"

After getting the rubbing, Alex quickly rolled herself back out and sat up, breathing out sharply. Hiding her shaking hands, she accepted Sam's offered hand, letting him pull her upright. "Here," she murmured, pressing the paper into his hand and throwing a look at the car over her shoulder. "Can you look for who owned it?"

"Sure," he agreed.

"Make sure you do 'em all," Dean told him, "not just the last one. Take it all the way back to 1955." He eyed Alex, who was still trying to calm herself. Despite her confidence, she'd clearly been frightened by the idea of a cursed vehicle, and he smirked a little. "Need to hold my hand?" he mocked, holding his hand out.

Alex snapped her jaws once. "I'm going to bite your bloody hand off of your wrist if you ever offer something like that again," she seethed, and then turned and sauntered away, intent on getting into the Impala.

Dean watched after her with a smirk, his gaze locked onto her backside, and Sam found his eyebrows lifting in astonishment. "What did I miss that went on between you two?" he asked, waiting on his brother's answer.

To his surprise, Dean's smirk merely widened and he said, "Nothing, Sammy. Nothing at all."

* * *

Alex glanced up from the book she was skimming through when Sam let out a soft whoosh, sitting back in his seat. She abandoned her book, placing it carefully down on the bed, still open to her page, and asked, "Everything alright, Winchester number two?"

He glanced up at her, dark eyes distressed, and then looked back down. "It's fake."

"What's fake?" she asked for clarification, swinging her legs around to sit up.

"The car. Little Bastard. It's a fake, it's not the real car." Sam closed his laptop, running a hand down his face. "And now I have to tell Dean. We're back at square one. Do you know what it could be?"

She thought it over, running through her mental data book, and then shrugged. "No. No clue. Sorry."

He watched her for a few moments, and then asked desperately, "Alex, what did I miss? What did you guys...what did you do while I was gone?" He looked upset that he'd even left. "I should never have left," he said, confirming Alex's theory.

"You're here now and that's what matters," she said gently before admitting, "We took a little trip into the future." He snapped his gaze up to hers in shock. "Zachariah found us through some Jehovah's Witness people, or something like that. In any case, it wasn't pleasant. We weren't sent too far, just enough to see the destruction of the world. Croatoans everywhere. Bobby…" She trailed off, and then continued. "Castiel had lost his angelic abilities...it was horrific, Sam." She chose to not tell him what he'd been like. Where he'd been. "The worst part was us." She made a face now, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Older me kissed older Dean, and I don't think I've ever been more scared for my future. Don't tell him that; he doesn't know."

Sam, despite being bothered that he hadn't been there to experience the future like that, barked out a laugh. Alex glared at him, but he merely grinned and said softly, "Is that why Dean called me?"

"Yeah." She smiled softly at him. "And I was serious, Sam. If something like that ever happens again, and Dean's being a bloody twat, I _will_ go with you. I don't care what Dean thinks."

Sam watched her for a few moments before saying quietly, "Thank you, Alex."

She waved him off, reaching for her book again. "Bloody hell, you're clingy," she teased. "Why don't you call him and let him know. Put him on speaker," she added, glancing over the edge of her book. "I want to hear everything the twat says."

"Yes, ma'am," he said drily. Sam swept some of his papers aside, grimacing at the stacks around his laptop and then pulled his phone out, dialing the familiar number. As it rang, he put it on speaker and set it on the table, both hunters listening to the dial tone.

Finally, Dean picked up.

"Yo."

"Hey," Sam said with a heavy sigh. "Took me a while, but I traced all the car's previous owners."

"Any of 'em die bloody?" Alex perked up as she listened to Dean. She could have sworn she'd heard something in the background.

"Nope," Sam said, "In fact-" He was cut off as something loud filled the air. Alex knew that sound well. Pool balls. Her eyes narrowed into slits.

"Winchester," she called, a growl rumbling in her chest, "are you in a _bar_?"

"No," Dean said hastily, "I'm...I'm in a restaurant."

"Here's your beer," a voice neither she nor Sam knew.

"Thanks." Sam shook his head, exasperated, as Dean added, "A restaurant that happens to have a bar."

"We've been working our asses of here," Sam snapped, although he waved off Alex when she gave him a pointed look, because honestly...she'd done absolutely nothing. But, he decided, Dean didn't need to know that. Dean didn't answer, and Sam huffed, "The car's first owner was a cardiologist in Philadelphia. He drove it 'til he died in 1972."

"So...what are you saying?"

"He's saying," Alex chimed in, annoyed with him, "that it's not James Dean's car, Dean. It's a fake Little Bastard."

"Well then," Dean said, clearly disappointed despite the fact that the car would have been cursed, "what was it that killed the guy?"

Sam met Alex's eyes from across the room, face grim. "That's what I'd like to know."

* * *

The next day found Alex, once again, in her canine form. Sam held the end of the leash as per usual while Dean eyed the building they'd gone to, where supposedly a murder had taken place. Alex snorted softly. She could smell something off, but couldn't put her finger on what it was. "Alright," Dean declared, putting his loaded handgun safely at the small of his back and starting for the front door. "Let's go."

Alex kept up with ease, trotting alongside Sam with her head lifted and nose working furiously. They entered the building, earning strange looks due to her presence, but Alex ignored them, letting the boys work their magic with the fake badges, and before they knew it, they were approaching the crime scene that was being swarmed by forensics. As they entered, ducking under some caution tape, a man was barking, "I want you to use a fine-tooth comb. The evidence is here. We just have to find it." The man, "Carnegie," Sam hissed under his breath, paused when he saw the "FBI agents", frowning briefly at the dog before shrugging and saying, "You're here."

"Heard you got another weird one," Dean said in way of explanation, green eyes combing the area curiously.

"Uh, well…" Carnegie looked flustered. "It's a...it's a little strange on the surface, I admit, but you know, once you...once you look at the facts."

Sam, who'd made sure to catch all of the information they'd need before coming, said coolly, "No gun, no gunpowder, no bullet, but William Hill died from a gunshot wound to the head."

"Nothing strange about that," Dean drawled.

Alex lowered her head to sniff at the ground, seeking any odd scents, and Sam loosened his grip on the leash until it dropped and Carnegie faltered as she took off, pacing the room, but said nothing. "Well," Carnegie said, not tearing his gaze from Alex, "there's gotta be a reasonable explanation. Always is." Another pause, and then he added in a whisper, "Professional killer. CIA, NSA, one o' them trained assassins."

Sam and Dean stared at him in shock, practically gawking. "Right," Dean said finally.

"You're welcome to look around," Carnegie said, making a face when Alex stopped, ears pricked. She gave a signal they'd come up with on previous cases, one ear forward the other swept back before she tore off, and left. "Musta heard the witness. If you want to talk with her, be my guest, but she's not making any sense. She's not making sense in Spanish either."

Interested, the Winchesters agreed and then headed after Alex. It didn't take them long to find her, sitting quietly beside a woman who was on a wooden bench, sniffling as she talked to a policeman while wrapped in a warm woolen blanket. She was ranting in Spanish, her fingers woven through Alex's fur hesitantly.

"Consuela Alvarez?" Dean cut in, interrupting the cop who'd been mid-sentence. He flashed his badge when the cop glared. "FBI." He scowled and got to his feet, heading back for the crime scene. When he was gone, Sam settled in his place, and Alex woofed, resting her chin on the crying woman's knees. An offer of comfort, meant to calm her so they could get the information they needed. "You said you saw something in the professor's house, right? Something in the window?"

She went off again in Spanish, unintelligible, and Sam finally cut her off, speaking fluently in Spanish. Consuela shivered, tightening her grip in Alex's fur, and Dean grinned, commenting, "Nice."

"Freshman Spanish," Sam said with a shrug, and then turned his attention back on Consuela. She spoke urgently, and Sam listened before saying aloud, translating, "Okay, uh...a tall man, very tall, with a long black coat and a...a beard?" He paused, gesturing to his chin to clarify, and Consuela nodded vigorously before ranting again.. "Right. And a tall hat."

"Like a top hat," Dean said slowly, and Consuela spoke hastily in Spanish again, gesturing above her head as she cried, "Muy alto!" Dean eyed her in confusion and he asked, "Like...like a stovepipe hat."

"Sí," Consuela said hastily, nodding.

"So...like Abraham Lincoln."

Consuela burst back into tears, sobbing, "Sí," she repeated, and then added through her despair, "El Presidente Lincoln." When Sam and Dean exchanged puzzled looks, Alex pricking her ears and subtly shaking her head when they glanced at her, Consuela said in broken English, "Abraham Lincoln kill Mr. Hill!"

As she broke down sobbing hysterically, Alex gave them puzzled looks. Even she, from the country of England, knew that Lincoln had been dead for centuries. So how would he reappear to kill someone now a days? And _why_?

* * *

Sam was skimming through notes with Alex, both on the floor with papers scattered around them in every which direction while Dean sat at the table, scanning through the video of the first victim's death a second time, a third time, and so on. Alex murmured something Dean didn't catch, leaning over to peer at a piece of paper Sam offered her, but Dean didn't care. Instead, his attention was caught by something else. He frowned, leaning in as he backed the video up and studied a figure that he hadn't noticed the first few times.

"Hey," he said and both on the floor looked up. Dean scooped the laptop up and carefully handed it over. Alex scooted closer to Sam, peering over his shoulder. "It's a freeze-frame from Jim Grossman's video. Am I crazy or does that look like James Dean, Sam?"

"That looks like James Dean," Sam confirmed, and Alex backed him up with a curt nod.

"So now we've got a killer Abraham Lincoln _and_ James Dean?" Alex questioned. "Are...are we dealing with famous ghosts? Because if bloody Queen Victoria shows up, I'm out."

Chuckling, Sam said, "There's a ton of lore on famous ghosts. More than the not-famous kinds. I'm surprised we haven't run into one before...but I'll admit it's odd to run into two extremely pissed-off ones. Who are apparently ganking their fans."

"What do you mean?" Dean demanded.

He held up a newspaper he'd been showing Alex, and Dean peered at the image of a proud looking man holding a sword. "Professor Hill," Sam told him, "was a Civil War nut. He dug Lincoln, Dean."

Dean's eyes widened with understanding. "And Cal must have been a James Dean freak. Spent seventeen years of his life tracking down the guy's car." Sam inclined his head, and Dean paused to add, "Well, not really the car, but…"

"So…what," Alex cut in, yawning loudly and earning an amused look from Sam. "You're saying we've got two incredibly upset ghosts killing their fans off?"

"That's what it looks like," Sam said with a shrug and Alex furrowed her brow. Becoming thoughtful as he debated what the ghosts could or couldn't be doing, Sam admitted, "Ghosts usually haunt the places they live, I mean...I get Abraham Lincoln at the White House, and James Dean at a race track…"

"But what the bloody hell are they doing here in Canton?" Alex demanded, folding her arms. She'd given up on what she was doing and instead now flopped back onto her back, completely disrupting papers as Dean went back to the laptop. Sam protested, but she ignored him, zoning him out - until Dean suddenly grunted in surprise. She caught the sound with ease and sat up, turning sharp blue eyes on him. "What?"

Dean sat back. "Huh," he muttered, then grinned at them. "How do you two feel about a wax museum?"

* * *

Alex looked ready to crawl up one of the Winchesters in terror as they meandered through the wax museum, investigating all of the figures. Dean was smirking to himself, watching her with a mocking glint to his eyes while Sam merely rolled his own and investigated each of them, marking various wax figures.

"Scared, Alex?" Dean said, wandering past her to investigate a figure of Gandhi. He wrinkled his nose. "Dude, he's _short_."

"Dean Winchester," Alex bit out, curling a lip in agitation. She eyed the figure with reluctance, shivering. She _hated_ these things. Too realistic with a fake stench around them...she wanted to leave. Immediately. "Ghandi was a great man. Don't mock Gandhi."

Dean didn't say anything, instead focusing his attention onto a man that bustled down a flight of stairs at the back. Alex watched him curiously, icy eyes narrowing in suspicion, but there was no weird smell about him, so she relaxed. Well, she tried. The wax people didn't allow for that. The man, dressed in a leather jacket and simple pair of jeans, offered a faint smile. "Sorry to keep you waiting, this is our busiest time of the year."

Sam sighed heavily when Dean looked around pointedly and arched a brow.

Flustered, the man said hastily, "It's early."

Dean was puzzled, claming, "It's...it's four-thirty in the afternoon, dude."

Cutting in, Alex cleared her throat to catch the man's attention, sidling over to stand beside Sam. She threw a warning look at Dean, warning him silently not to upset their only source of information for the time being. "We're writing a piece for _Travel Magazine_ ," she said cheerfully. She eyed one of the wax figures distrustfully. "We thought we'd include a piece on wax museums, as they aren't quite as popular as they deserve to be."

"A little press, just what we need," the man agreed, looking excited at the prospect. "That's fantastic, thank you!"

Sam smiled faintly and then told him, "Great. Well, we're interested in a few of your exhibits. Specifically Abraham Lincoln and James Dean."

"Two of our most popular displays," the owner said cheerfully. When Dean snorted disbelievingly, he looked at Dean reproachfully. "We have our regulars!"

"I don't suppose," Dean responded, "that William Hill and Cal Hawkins were regulars, were they?"

The owner's face fell. An upset look appeared on his face. "As a matter of fact, they were. I heard what happened to them...tragic, just tragic." Concern appeared, and he looked to Alex rather than the Winchesters for answers, eyes searching hers. "That's...that's not gonna be in the article, is it?"

"No," she soothed, "of course not. We're trying to convince people to go to wax museums, not run away." It looked like it took a lot to get the words out of her mouth and over the owner's shoulder, Dean grinned like the cheshire cat.

"You know," Dean drawled, and Alex wanted to slap him into silence. Couldn't he just...shut up?! Let she and Sam do the talking? "I gotta tell you, that Lincoln one is so lifelike. I mean, you...can't you just imagine him moving around? You ever see something like that?"

The owner shook his head, confused, and Sam quickly spoke up before he could start questioning them. "Well, is there anything you could think of that would make your museum unusual? For the article?"

"Well, I'll say." The owner beamed, looking relieved. "There isn't another place like us. Not anywhere. For one, that's Honest Abe's real hat!" He pointed at the wax figure of Abraham Lincoln, looking excited.

 _Remains_ , Alex decided, nodding to herself. Politely, she asked, "Do you have any more personal effects belonging to...well, any of these... _people_?"

The owner practically bounced on the balls of his feet, delighted she'd asked. "Oh, hell yeah! I've got James Dean's keychain, Gandhi's bifocals, FDR's iron lung. This." He tugged on the edge of his leather jacket, grinning. "The Fonz, seasons two through four." Alex blinked, puzzled. Who was _that_? "This is nothing. I've been working on a new collection of figures. Stuff that'll really wow the kids."

Alex went white, making Dean crack another grin. Did they really need more of these figures in the world?

Rolling his eyes at his brother's antics, Sam questioned, "The kids?"

"Gen Y," he explained, looking somewhat disgusted. "Computer games, cell phones, sexting. They're just fads." He scoffed, and then said proudly, "I'm gonna make wax museums hip again."

He looked so proud of himself as he gave them a double thumbs-up, that Dean snickered and Sam sighed before returning it.

Beside him, Alex merely eyed a wax figure of a woman with terror.

* * *

Hours later found Alex standing before the open trunk of the Impala beside Sam, their hands working hastily to put together an arsenal that would work against an army of ghosts. They'd decided to go to the wax museum that night, wanting to deal with it sooner rather than letting people die because they wanted to wait.

Sam handed her a shotgun, and Alex checked the barrel before nodding. Shotgun shells full of rocksalt along with cans in each of their jackets and Alex's ever useful black blade would do the trick.

"Go on in," Sam told her, grinning. "I'll finish up out here."

"Got it." She patted his arm affectionately, and then put the gun in the trunk before heading inside, just as he'd said. She paused when she opened the door quietly to find Dean talking on the phone to Bobby, whose voice echoed loudly in her ears despite the fact that she wasn't the person on the phone.

"Yeah," Dean was saying, not noticing that she was there. "Abraham Lincoln and James Dean, can you believe that? ...maybe the apocalypse has got 'em all hot and bothered." Alex flinched as Sam stepped in behind her, swiping his hands free of debris, pausing when he realized Dean was speaking. "We all know whose fault that is… Sorry, but it's true."

Alex clenched her jaw. Sam clearly knew what Dean was talking about, because his expression darkened a little and he kicked the door shut. Dean spun around with surprise and Alex leveled him with a lethal glare as he hung up and asked, "Did you get the trunk packed up?"

"Yeah," Sam said slowly. "Trunk's packed. Who was on the phone?"

"Bobby."

"And?"

"And nothing," Dean said irritably, then added sharply, "Stop looking at me like that, mutt."

"I'll stop when you stop being a bloody tosser," she spat, turning back to the door. She shouldered past Sam and stormed out the door, even more upset than Sam was about the comment.

Neither Winchester said anything more, merely followed her out the door. Dean shrugged his jacket on, ignoring the distressed look on his brother's face.

Alex kindly invited Sam to sit with her in the backseat, ignoring the huff from Dean.

* * *

The museum was even worse in the dark. Alex wanted to throttle the Winchesters for dragging her around on this job. Sam seemed amused with her behavior; Dean was even more so despite the attitude she was currently showing him. When they'd gotten inside and switched on the lights, Alex stuck close to Sam, looking ready to half-crawl up his arm when she nearly ran into one of the wax figures. He chuckled and directed her to fetch a metal trash can he'd spotted just outside as he grabbed the glasses off of Gandhi's face.

"Check it out."

Sam glanced over his shoulder, and Alex paused in what she was doing to look back. She groaned in exasperation when she found Dean smiling like a proud child at them, Abraham Lincoln's hat atop his head. "Four score and seven years ago," Dean mocked, lowering his voice, "I had a funny hat."

"Dean," Sam said sharply, rolling his eyes. Alex went to fetch the trash can as he held his hand out for the hat. Dean reluctantly took the hat off and tossed it at him so that when Alex came back, Sam dropped it in with the glasses. "Let's just torch the objects, torch the ghosts, and get out of here. Okay?"

"I'll go grab East of Eden's keychain," Dean decided, and promptly left the room.

Grumbling, Alex snarled, "If either of you ever tell me we have a job involving mannequins again, Sam Winchester, I will flay your head from your shoulders and hand your dead bodies over to the demons and angels. Am I clear?"

Sam grinned despite himself. "Are you really that scared, Alex?"

"They're _creepy_ ," she insisted, gesturing at the nearby figure of Abraham Lincoln. "I mean, they look so _real_. Ugh." She shuddered, and then jumped when behind Sam, the doors that Dean had left through slammed shut. Sam spun around. "Bloody hell, here we go," she whimpered.

"Dean!" Sam called, alarmed. He strode for the doors, Alex stiffening. Her gaze darted between various wax figures, her blue eyes wide with fear. He tried the handles, shoulders tensing as his breath filled the air in a cloud. "Damn it-"

" _Sam_ ," Alex suddenly shouted, pointing. A creak had him looking over in time for his shotgun to go flying. She looked ready to start screaming when Gandhi leaped into action, throwing himself at Sam. Sam shouted in surprise, trying to pry the arms wrapped around his throat. Alex whipped her blade out, moving towards him. She flinched when Sam tried to remove him by slamming into a wall. It worked. Gandhi hit the ground.

Alex lunged, snarling, but was blindsided when Gandhi turned on her. He barreled into her, fingers latching onto her throat and trapping her to the floor. Sam swore as the doors barged open and Dean appeared, eyes widening at the sight before him. "Dude," Dean blurted, "is that _Gandhi_?"

Sam bellowed, "Get the-" A well-aimed kick cut off his words. Sam dropped like a stone, swearing colorfully. Dean got the idea, however, and lunged for the trashcan, where he'd seen them dump the glasses. Alex struggled to reach for the blade that had skittered feet away from her upon hitting the ground. It was out of reach, and Gandhi only tightened his grip, snapping his teeth at her shoulder and throat's meeting point.

Dean didn't hesitate. He threw salt and then dumped half a bottle of lighter fluid they'd brought with them into the trash can, fumbling for his matches. Without hesitation, he lit one and dropped it in.

As the trash can burst into flames, Gandhi disappeared.

Alex lay there, wheezing. Her throat ached, and she knew despite her healing abilities she'd have bruises. Beside her, Sam groaned. Dean approached after a moment, scooping Alex's knife from the floor. He stood over them, staring at them incredulously.

"Seriously? You let Gandhi kick your asses?"

* * *

Shoving his newly cleaned shirts into a duffel, Dean snickered at the way Alex was huddled protectively over a piece of pizza on the other bed, all ready packed. Sam was in the bathroom, packing his toiletries up. "Still scared, mutt?"

She shot him a glare. He needed to drop this attitude he'd picked back up since he'd invited Sam to come back. It was pissing her off. "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all," she retorted.

It only made him smirk before he called to his brother, "Ready to blow this joint?"

Sam stepped out of the bathroom, looking troubled. "Dean, didn't it strike you as strange? The way Gandhi just...poofed?"

"Strange how?"

Alex piped up, nodding in agreement to Sam. "No screaming," she pointed out. "No big flame-out. That's not the way ghosts usually go. At least," she paused to take a bite of pizza, "not in my experience." Her voice came out muffled.

"Still, I torched, he vanished," Dean retorted. "It's fine."

"No," Alex said, swallowing and setting her pizza down. "He tried to eat me." Dean threw her an exasperated look. She'd been repeating the idea over and over since they'd gotten back, and quite frankly, it was pissing him off. Ignoring the look he gave her, Alex instead continued. "It was like he was hungry. But…"

Sam spoke up, frowning. "He was a fruitarian."

Alex waved at him, nodding, and Dean burst out laughing. Cackling, he said, "Let me get this straight. The guy who jumped you was not only a short man in diapers, but he was also a fruitarian?" Sam groaned, because _honestly_ , that was _not_ the point they were trying to make, but Dean only grinned. "That's good. That is _good_."

"Look," Alex said crossly, "the point is, we don't think this is over and you should-"

"It was a ghost," Dean interrupted, throwing his arms out. He didn't give a damn. "It was a weirdly super-charged fruitarian ghost, but it was still a ghost. Let's _go_." Alex sighed as Dean grabbed his duffel, clearly intending to leave, and began to scarf down the rest of her pizza. Sam, however didn't move. Instead, he shook his head.

"You know, this isn't going to work."

"Oh, bloody hell," Alex sighed. "Here we go."

Ignoring her, Dean asked, "What isn't?"

"Us." Sam waved at him. "You, me, together. I thought it could, but it can't."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You're the one who wanted back in, chief."

"And you're the one who called me back in."

"I still think we got some trust building to do."

"Are you _serious_?" Alex muttered, glaring at Dean. "That's your reasoning? You're a bloody idiot, aren't you?" She understood that Sam had messed up. They all had. It was her screwing up that got her brother and Avery killed. Dean had screwed up and allowed Sam to get as far as he had. Sam had screwed up and started the apocalypse.

Sam's voice lifted a little. "How long am I gonna be on double-secret probation, Dean?" Dean didn't answer with more than a shrug. Sam took a deep breath, trying to control his temper, and let it gust out through his nose. "Look. I know what I did. What I've done. And I am _trying_ to climb out of that hole. But you're not making it any easier."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Dean challenged, glancing irritably at him. "Let you off the hook?"

"No," Sam said evenly. "Think whatever the hell you want. I deserve it, and worse. Hell, you'll punish me as much as I'm punishing myself, but the point is, if we're gonna be a team - all three of us. If we're all going to be a team, you and I...Dean, it has to be a two-way street."

Dean flicked a look at Alex to see what she thought and she shrugged, licking her fingers free of pizza grease. "I'm not a part of this, no matter how hard Sam tries to shove me into it. I'm neutral territory. Think of me as an unknown island off the coast of Antarctica."

Rolling his eyes at the skinwalker, Dean snapped to his brother, "So...what? We just go back to the way we were before?"

"No," Sam said firmly, shaking his head. "Because we were never that way before. Before didn't work. Dean, one of the reasons I went off with Ruby was to get away from you." Alex paused to look at him, narrowing her eyes, and said nothing. Sam earned himself a shocked look from Dean. "It made me strong. Like I wasn't your kid brother."

"Are we saying this is my fault?"

"Bloody _hell_ , he's not, you moron," Alex snapped, rolling her eyes. "It's all our faults." She stared them down, daring either of them to continue the argument. "Now if you're done arguing, can we-"

She was interrupted by the sound of Dean's phone ringing. They all paused; Sam and Alex looked at Dean and Dean looked down at himself, putting his duffel down so that he could pat his pockets for it. Finally, he found it, answering it. "Yeah?" He glanced at Alex, scowling. "Yeah, okay. Thanks." Without another word, he hung up and muttered, "Can't believe I'm saying this, but you were right. It's not over."

* * *

Alex felt bad for the sheriff as they stepped into the police department. He looked to be in shock, his face gray with exhaustion. He didn't even seem to care that she was there, that teams of three weren't a thing when it came to official work. She cleared her throat to get his attention. He glanced up and ran a hand down his face as Dean asked, "Sheriff, what happened?"

Carnegie shook his head, throwing a hand in the air. "I don't know!"

After a quick discussion, the trio decided that Alex and Dean would take care of the interviewing of two young women, who were huddled beside each other crying in the interview room, while Sam went to do a quick check in the morgue of what might have killed the victim. Alex was scowling a little, not pleased to be stuck with Dean, but smiled as they stepped into the room.

"Hullo," she called, smiling pleasantly to get their attention. They sniffled, looking up.

"Hi there," Dean echoed. "We're with the FBI. Can you tell us what happened?"

Immediately, one began wailing, and Alex twitched. She wanted to cover her ears. "It was horrible!" she cried. "Way horrible. I thought she'd be _nice_."

The other girl looked at the first, nodding in agreement. "I still can't believe it," she breathed.

Alex sighed and Dean smirked at her before demanding, "Believe what?"

"She took Danielle!"

Alex counted backwards from ten to control her irritation and then reassured when they refused to answer Dean's question of "Who?", "It's okay. You're safe here. Tell us, who took your friend?"

"It was...it was Paris Hilton," the second girl finally admitted, blushing as they stared at her.

"I...sorry?" Alex said finally.

"She looked really good though," the girl said, eyes darting to her friend.

"Skinny!" the other girl added.

"Skinny and fast." They nodded together, enforcing the opinion.

"Okay…" Dean cleared his throat, feeling awkward. He exchanged a look with Alex, who looked as confused as he felt. "Do you know where they went?" The girls shook their heads, claiming they'd vanished. "Would you excuse us?" Without waiting to see what Alex would say, Dean grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the door. She growled irritably at being hauled around, but didn't try to push him away. When they reached the door, he leaned in and said lowly, "Paris Hilton's not dead, is she?"

Alex calmly brushed his fingers from her arm. "No," she said. "Not as far as I know. Which means it wasn't a ghost. Just like I told you."

"So...what?" Dean made a small gesture that looked more like a flail. "Paris Hilton is a homicidal maniac?"

"Let's see if Sam found anything," Alex decided, pressing her lips together. "Then we'll figure out where to go next." Dean agreed and Alex let him thank the girls before stepping out. They strode side-by-side down the hall, heading for the area that Sam would be working in. They were caught by surprise when Sam caught them in the hall.

"I can't believe I missed it," Sam told them as he stopped, pushing his hand into his pocket. "I can't believe _we_ missed it."

Together, they started heading for the Impala. Alex smoothed her hands over her skirt as they walked, her heels clicking. "Missed what?" she asked.

"I went back over the other two victims," Sam said. "There was blood loss. Major. And more than a car crash or head should cause." This last part was added when Dean opened his mouth to make a comment that would have resulted in both Sam and Alex wanting to throttle him.

"So something's feeding," Alex rumbled.

"And then there was these," Sam continued after nodding. He handed over a plastic bag to Dean, who let Alex peer curiously at them. He held them up to the light, glancing at his brother when he was done examining them. "They were in the bellies."

"Seeds," Dean muttered, and then eyed Sam. "I hope you washed your hands."

"Unlike any seed I've ever seen," Alex said, ignoring Dean. She sighed heavily. "I suppose it's back to research then." Sam nodded and the skinwalker wanted to cry.

* * *

"Alex, you could be helping."

"No," Alex growled as she shoved the apple back halfway into her mouth. She took a loud bite that crunched and stared down Dean with sharp icy eyes as he stared at her. Finally, grumbling, Dean went back to typing on his own laptop. Sam was busy at the table beside him, ignoring the fact that Alex had abandoned research to sit in the middle of the motel bed and eat an apple.

"Yahtzee!" Sam suddenly said with a grin, proud.

"What?" Alex said immediately, voice muffled with apple.

"The seeds aren't from around here," Sam explained as Dean closed his laptop and set it aside to listen. "In fact, they're not from any tree or plant in the country. They're from Eastern Europe. From a forest in the Balkans, which isn't even there anymore. It was chopped down thirty years ago. Local legend has it that the forest was guarded by a pagan god whose name was Leshi."

"I've heard of Leshi," Alex said, swiping at her mouth with her arm. "Mischievous little bugger who could take on infinite forms." Sam looked startled. She shrugged. "We had a long drive. I started reading up on every god I could find on wikipedia that wasn't God Himself."

"Looks like he could be appeased only with the blood of his worshippers," Sam said, squinting and leaning in to look at the screen. "It would drain them and then stuff their stomachs with the seeds."

Dean leaned back in his chair, cocking his head a little. "So how's he doing it? Did he touch James Dean's keychain and then morph into the legend himself?"

"As good a guess as any," Alex said with a shrug. "What does it say to kill it?"

"Beheading via iron axe."

"Alright then." She hopped to her feet and threw her apple, grinning madly when it landed perfectly in a trashcan. "Let's go kill ourselves a bloody Paris Hilton."

* * *

Dean weighed the axe in his hands as they slid into the wax museum, having broken in for a second time. Alex felt almost bad as she crept in, her blade ready. They didn't know if it would actually work against the pagan god, but she was willing to find out. Within minutes, the trio of hunters had split up. Better to find the god sooner rather than later.

A shrill whistle from Sam brought them creeping back through the museum to where he waited. Sam nodded at a wooden door, indicating signs that read "closed for renovations" and "danger do not enter." Alex stepped aside so Sam could carefully break the latch. He pushed the door open, ducking beneath a plastic sheet. Within the room, they all paused to study it.

The room looked like a forest, a stone path leading through the fake trees to a house painted white with a wax figure in a suit standing on the porch. Alex flinched and dragged her eyes away from it. She gasped softly, taking notice of a girl who'd been tied to a tree. She abandoned Sam and Dean, jogging over to check on her. Switching her blade to her other hand, she checked the girl's pulse.

"She alive?" Dean called quietly.

Alex nodded curtly. "Barely," she answered.

The word had barely left her mouth before the axe in Dean's hand was sent flying. She jolted at the sound of it thudding into the side of a tree. Dean whirled around, and found Paris Hilton smirking at him, her gaze flickering. No, he corrected himself. Not Paris Hilton; Leshi. Leshi didn't hesitate to slam a fist into Dean's jaw, toppling him to the ground. Sam went after her, but she lifted him by the throat, catching him mid-lunge. With a grin, Leshi hurled him over her shoulder.

Alex stared. Despite the fact that this was a murdering god...it was impressive. Sam was incredibly heavy. Growling, Alex slid into a protective stance, leveling her blade in front of her as she narrowed her eyes. She'd protect the girl. Danielle, her friends had called her.

Leshi laughed when Sam crumpled to the earth, unconscious. Ignoring his pain, she stepped towards the skinwalker. Dean groaned on the ground, rolling slowly onto his stomach and swallowing thickly. "Alex," he barked. "Get the girl out."

She faltered, not wanting to leave her companions. But one look at the hungry god, who was eyeing the sobbing Danielle and herself, and Alex gave a curt nod. She cut the girl's bound wrists loose with her blade and then pushed her behind her. "On it," she agreed with a snarl directed at Leshi. Dean lunged for the axe and Leshi whirled on him with a scowl.

"Go!" Alex hissed to Danielle, and together, they sprinted past Leshi and Dean. Leshi snarled furiously, not at all pleased that her meal was escaping. But instead of chasing after them, she lifted a heel-clad foot and kicked Dean in the face, effectively knocking him out.

Alex led Danielle through the wax museum, worried that Leshi would chase after them. But the god remained where she was. When they burst through the doors to the outside, Alex locked her eyes onto the Impala. Had she had the keys, perhaps she would have driven the sniffling girl out of the area, but instead, she whirled on her. She had to get back in there. Grabbing Danielle gently by the shoulders, Alex ordered, "Go to the police station, do you hear me? Tell them nothing of the fact that we're here."

"But-"

Alex cut off Danielle's blubbering. "Do you hear me?" she snapped furiously. "Tell them _nothing_ of us being here. Fake amnesia, tell them that you can't remember.." The girl looked bewildered by her speech, but nodded. "Good girl." She pushed her. "Go."

Alex watched her go and then turned back to the wax museum. She decided to give them time. Leshi wouldn't kill them immediately. She'd want to torture them for information; it was what most gods or monsters they fought liked to do. She took a deep breath, counting backwards from one hundred. Finally, she shifted her blade and crept back into the wax museum.

She shivered as she bypassed the figures in favor of going back towards the door she'd left through, pressing her ear to the door to listen.

"-wanna miss it," drawled a voice sarcastically. Alex snorted; she knew that voice. Dean was alive at least.

"I've been stuffing myself with fast food lately," a feminine voice mused. _Leshi_. "It's nice to do the ritual right, though. Prepare a nice, slow meal for a change."

"Just like the good old days."

Sam was alive, too. Alex took a deep breath and let it out slowly. That was good to know. Slowly, she inched the door open a crack and peered inside, her sharp eyes locking immediately onto Leshi, who stood with her back to Alex, showing a large knife to Dean and Sam. She couldn't see them from where she was, but she was sure they weren't loose.

"You have no idea how much people adored me," Leshi sighed, shifting her weight. "They used to throw themselves at me, with smiles on their stupid faces."

Dean answered with a dry tone, "I guess these days nobody gives a damn about some backwoods forest god."

Leshi snarled at him, furious. Alex inched the door open a little more, fingers flexing around her blade. Now, she could see the Winchesters. Tied to trees, like Danielle had been. She clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth irritably. "No," Leshi said slowly, "not since they cut down my forest and built a power plant."

"March of progress, sister."

Dean was going to get himself killed. Whether it be by a Paris Hilton look alike or Alex was yet to be determined.

"For years now, I've been wandering," Leshi sighed. "Hungry, scared, and scrounging for scraps. _So_ not sexy." She paused, and then cocked her head, setting aside her knife. "But then, the best thing ever happened. Someone tripped the apocalypse. And I thought, what the hell? I'm tired of watching what I eat. I wanna pig out. So, I found this little place. It's awesome! Adoring fans stroll right in the door."

"Yeah," Sam said irritably. "But they're not your fans."

"So? They worship Lincoln, Gandhi, Hilton...whatever. I'll take what I can get."

Alex slunk in after cracking the door just wide enough, keeping to the trees. Sam saw her and his eyes widened briefly before he snapped them back to Leshi. Dean didn't look her way, but she was willing to bet he'd noticed. "I gotta tell you," he drawled. "You're not the first god we've met. But you are the nuttiest."

Leshi giggled, shaking her head. "You're the crazy ones. You used to worship gods. But this?" She gestured to her Paris Hilton appearance. "This is what passes for idolatry? Celebrities? What have they got besides small dogs and spray tans?"

Alex paused to incline her head in acknowledgement, because the psychotic bitch had a point. Not that it meant she agreed with what Leshi was doing. She sank into a crouch behind a tree, waiting. She watched around the tree as Leshi continued, bantering almost playfully with Dean. The banter turned into rage when she commented on who Dean's hero was.

"And this belonged to him," Leshi mused as she turned her back on Dean. Alex immediately darted forward, a snarl on her lips. "Poor little Dean. All you ever wanted was to be loved-"

Alex threw herself onto the god's back, hooking her legs around Leshi's waist to keep herself there as she plunged her blade home, yanking as hard as she could to dislodge Leshi's head and simultaneously sinking the weapon as far into her neck as she could. Leshi screamed, hands flying up. Dean lunged, hands free, and Sam went to work on freeing himself, too. Dean's hand curled around the axe as Sam got free, yanking it free of the tree. "Alex!" he barked.

She dropped, yanking her blade out as she did so. Leshi screamed as Sam swept her feet out from under her, kneeling on her chest. Dean hefted the axe above his head as Alex scampered out of the way of what she knew was coming.

With a thud, the axe beheaded Leshi in one blow. Blood splattered, slicking Dean and Sam both. Alex heaved for air, pressing a hand to her chest as her heart raced. Adrenaline coursed through her body.

From where he was kneeling, Sam suddenly looked up at Dean and snickered, studying the bruise on Dean's jaw. "Dude, you got your ass kicked by Paris Hilton."

Dean released the axe and scowled.

"Shut up."

* * *

The next day found them all significantly feeling better. Sam and Dean were a little sore from being tossed around, but not to the point of being bedridden. Dean chatted on the phone with someone as Alex and Sam loaded up the Impala with their duffels, Alex teasing Sam about something or another. One word from Sam had her glaring accusingly at him. Sam smirked.

Finally, Dean hung up. He sighed a little. "Sheriff Carnegie," he explained, putting his phone in his pocket. "The girl's gonna be alright. She's sworn off _The Simple Life_ , said something about amnesia, but other than that...she's fine."

Alex's lips quirked up into a smile.. "Did she? Good."

Sam agreed as Dean yanked his car keys free and yawned. He opened the trunk for them. Sam and Alex unloaded the duffels into it and when they were done, Dean slammed it shut. He paused, and then said hesitantly, "Hey, Sam. I was thinking about what you said yesterday. About me…"

"Being a twat?" Alex suggested.

He glared at her. "Shut up, Alex, I'm not talking to you."

"And…?" Sam encouraged, ignoring their small squabble.

Dean took a deep breath, and then admitted, "Hell, maybe Alex was right. I'm not exactly Mr. Innocent in this whole mess. I did break the first seal."

Alex's gaze softened a fraction as she pointed out, "You didn't know."

"Yeah, well, neither did Sam," Dean said firmly. "I'm not saying demon blood was a great way to go, but...Sam did kill Lilith."

"And start the apocalypse," Sam said grouchily, scowling at the ground.

"No one saw that coming," Dean said calmly in response and then leaned against his car. "I mean, who'd have thought that killing Lilith would have been a bad thing?" Dean took a deep breath as he studied his brother and then Alex. "Point is," he said after watching her for a moment, returning his gaze to Sam. "I was so worried about watching our every move that I didn't see what it was doing to you. So, for that...I'm sorry."

Alex, rather than mocking him in amazement as she might once have done, stayed silent, her blue eyes curious. What had brought this on?

But he didn't further an explanation, instead saying gruffly as he slammed the trunk shut, "So where do we go from here?"

"The way I see it, we've got one shot at surviving this," Sam said, studying Dean closely. "Maybe I am on deck for the devil, maybe same with you and Michael, maybe there's no changing that."

" _Sam Winchester_ ," Alex growled, "no one's accepting any angel into their body or so help me-"

Ignoring her, Sam continued. "We can stop wringing our hands over it, though. We gotta grab onto whatever's in front of us and go down fighting. You, too, Alex."

They stood there in silence.

Finally, Alex sighed, "Alright, you bloody fool, I can agree with that." Dean nodded, too. "But we're going to have to do it as a team, do you hear me?"

Sam and Dean agreed and Dean said gruffly,. "I say we get the hell outta here now."

"Hell yeah," Sam agreed.

"If I ever see a wax figure again," Alex growled as she went for the backseat's door, "I will not be amused, Winchesters."

Dean snickered and then surprised everyone by stopping, looking at his keys. "Hey," he said suddenly, looking up at Sam. Sam looked over at him curiously and Dean held out the keys. "Wanna drive?"

"You sure?" Sam said with surprise, hesitantly reaching out to take the keys.

"Yeah. I could use a nap."

Alex gawked at the pair openly, blue eyes full of annoyance. "Bloody hell!" she cried. "That's so not fair! I want to drive for once!"

Snickering, Dean merely climbed into the passenger seat, and Sam rolled his eyes before getting into the driver's. "Come on," Dean called impatiently when she took too long to get into the back. "Don't be a wimp, let's go!"

Baring her teeth at him, yet relieved with the lack of tension between them, Alex climbed into the car.

* * *

 _Sorry about the wait! I've returned to college and been busy with all my writings. :D Here's the next chapter! Have no worries, I'll start bringing in some fluff soon, I think._

 _ashley, regarding number of chapters...dunno. At this point, I'm planning up through season ten or eleven at least. But I haven't seen season twelve yet, so Plus, I don't know how long that'll take me._

 _Thanks to reviewers (emily2696, Mo, Harmony, ashley, and Guest #1) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	36. I Believe the Children Are Our Future

"Don't say anything," Sam muttered in Alex's ear as they strode over to the desk, where a curious worker had faltered, ready to greet them. For once, they'd convinced Dean to hang back and see what he could find about everything else, letting them go and do the interview for a case that had brought them to Alliance, Nebraska. "They trust us less with your accent."

"Should I try using my best American accent?" she suggested.

"No, and if you try, I'm telling Dean," Sam warned.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Tattler," she accused, although she inclined her head, showing that she'd keep quiet. Although, she did add, "I don't know why you think telling Dean is a punishment." But she straightened, taking on a professional clear expression as they reached the nurse.

Sam spoke up for them, clearing his throat. "Excuse me, but do you have someone in charge around? We're here to see Amber Freer's body. FBI." He flashed his badge and the man nodded, hastily promising to find his boss. They watched him go and then Sam told Alex, "Because if I tell him you tried an American accent and failed, you'll never live it down."

Alex grimaced. He had a point. "Alright," she huffed, "no need to get violent, you moose, I'll behave."

"Moose?" he said with amusement and she waved him off, nodding to where the man had reappeared - quite quickly - with a doctor. He was middle-aged, with a tired look around his face, clearly ready for some sleep.

"Greetings," the doctor greeted tiredly. "What brings you by?"

"We need to see Amber Freer's body," Sam repeated, flashing his badge once more. Alex copied, her blue eyes flickering as the doctor curiously studied them. She knew that their color attracted attention; only dogs tended to have the color, but she ignored the attention. "The police report said something clawed through her skull?"

"Did you not read the autopsy report I e-mailed out this morning?" the doctor said bluntly.

"We had server issues," Alex cut in smoothly with a surprisingly effective American accent, and the doctor became taken aback by the sound of her voice. She smiled charmingly at him.

Sam merely stared in shock, unable to believe that she'd actually managed to rid herself of her normal accent for the time being. Alex winked at him when the doctor turned away, waving for them to follow. They fell into step behind him as he led the way to the morgue. "You...when did you-"

Alex hummed. "I was in the US for some time before I met you two, you know, and I've been here for some time afterwards. I can copy a bloody American accent." She snickered as she spoke with the said American accent yet retained her normal terminology, earning a snort from Sam. Glaring at him, she turned her attention on the doctor as he ducked through a doorway.

"When they brought her in," the doctor told them as he opened a freezer and pulled a slab out. The slab had a body beneath a sheet on it, and he threw the sheet away from the head. They both flinched at the mess of skin and hair atop her head. "We thought she was attacked by a wolf or something."

"Or something," Alex muttered.

"But we were wrong," the doctor continued. He searched on the slab and then lifted a plastic bag, offering it so that they could look. Alex and Sam leaned in to look. A nail was within the bag, and Alx blinked. "It's a press-on nail," the doctor said. "We found it in her temporal lobe. It's from her right hand."

"Is that even possible?" Sam asked. A frown suddenly encompassed his face. "Wait. Are you claiming that she did this to herself?"

The doctor gave a quick nod, leaning back with a heavy sigh. "Yep. She scratched her brains out. It'd take hours and it'd hurt like hell, but it's possible."

Alex snapped her gaze up to him. "How?" she asked, slipping into her fake accent hastily halfway through the word. He didn't seem to notice, focused on how Sam was pulling the sheet back to look at her right hand.

"Pick your acronym," was his answer. "OCD, PCP...it all spells crazy." Alex glared at him. That was not a reason good enough to scratch your brains out! But he merely continued on, sighing, "My guess? Phantom itch. I mean, it would be an extreme case, but…" He flipped the sheet back over the girl's body and shoved the slab back into the freezer, closing the door. "All it takes is someone talking about an itch - or thinking about one - and suddenly...you can't stop scratching. It's like...like when someone talks about head lice. And you start scratching your head."

"Thanks," Sam sighed, and Alex smirked as he scratched his head.

They bid the doctor farewell and then turned and left. As they headed back outside, Alex asked, allowing her fake accent to disappear, "Should we go to the crime scene? Or should we go pick up Dean and let him do it?" She held up her phone, which had a cranky text message pulled up. "He's getting pissy."

Sam snickered. "How about," he suggested, "you and him go ahead and go? I'll stay back at the motel and see if I can find anything that might have caused a crazy phantom itch."

"Sounds good," Alex sighed. She eyed the Impala as she caught sight of it and then turned a hopeful look onto the youngest Winchester. "Can I drive?" she said hopefully. She'd been pestering the pair of Winchesters since the last case.

"No," Sam said, "not now. I'd let you, but if I do, we'll never escape him again."

* * *

Alex threw a dirty look over her shoulder as Dean waited impatiently behind her, wanting to hear her supposed American accent that Sam had mentioned to him. The skinwalker shook her head and turned her attention back onto the family before her, still not pleased that the youngest Winchester had given that information up. Grumbling a little, she shifted the notebook in her lap, flipped her pen a little, and gave the the people before her - a woman named Francine and a man named Richard - a warm smile.

"Okay," she said, finally speaking and letting her English accent disappear. Dean stared at her with shock, as if disappointed she'd not sounded strange. "I know some of these questions might seem a bit odd, but please just bear with me."

"Oh, my God," she heard Dean whisper under his breath and glared at him before returning her gaze on the family.

"Have you noticed any cold spots in the house?" she questioned. Richard shook his head, and Alex inclined his head. "Okay, what about strange smells?"

Dean left her to ask her questions, still stunned by the discovery that Sam had revealed to him to look around. He pretended _not_ to have realized he found the easy change attractive and instead studied the room before wandering over to peek around a corner. He was caught by surprise by a boy that stood there, distracting him from his thoughts. The boy stared at him for a moment, and then asked suspiciously, "Whatcha lookin' for?"

Dean grinned briefly. He liked kids. "Don't know yet." He strode over, looking down at the boy, who eyed him warily. "Jimmy, right?" Jimmy nodded, looking unsure now that Dean was standing right in front of him. "So, Amber was your babysitter?"

"Yes, sir."

Dean nodded wisely, smiling at him reassuringly. "Most of my babysitters sucked. Especially Ms. Chancy. She only cared about two things: _Dynasty_ and bedtime." He chuckled at his own joke, though Jimmy just seemed downright confused. "Did you...uh, did you see anything strange that night?"

"No, sir."

The answer came too quickly, with Jimmy avoiding looking at him. Dean's lips quirked. _Nice try, kiddo._ "You sure about that?" he said thoughtfully.

"I...I would tell you if I knew something," Jimmy said almost fearfully, trembling a little as he stared up at Dean. "One hundred percent, cross my heart."

"Look, Jimmy," Dean said, throwing a look over his shoulder in the direction of the living room where Alex was still interrogating Francine and Richard. "I happen to know you're lying." Jimmy denied it and Dean said, feeling a little bad for scaring the kid as he put his hand on Jimmy's shoulder, "Look, kid, we're gonna start talking truth, or you're gonna have to take a little trip downtown."

Jimmy stared up at him with wide eyes and spilled.

* * *

"There's no way," Alex said irritably as they climbed out of the Impala back at the motel room, her gaze sharp with agitation, "that what you say is the truth. No way. No bloody way."

"You've said that a thousand times, yet it's the only thing we have to go off of right now," Dean said pointedly, striding for the motel room they occupied. It was a one-bed this time, meaning that Alex would be a little cranky for the rest of the case; she always got the floor in the situation. "Sam," he said as they entered the motel room. "Sam, we might have something."

Sam glanced up from where he was seated at the small kitchen table, laptop open and a bite of a sub in his mouth. Without saying anything and showing them his mouth full of food, he waved for them to talk.

So, Dean held up the packet he'd shown Alex. "Kid said he put this packet of itching powder on her hairbrush."

Sam nearly choked on his sandwich. "Dean. There's no way-" he began when he'd swallowed the bite. He cleared his throat. "There's no way that itching powder made a girl scratch her brains out. Not like what we saw. It's just ground up maple seeds."

"I told you so," Alex said briskly.

"Well," Dean said crossly, glancing between them. "If you have any other theories, I'm open to 'em."

Sam went to answer but was cut off when his phone rang. He answered after checking, and then said, "Yeah? Yeah. We'll be right there." He hung up and sighed heavily, looking at what remained of his sandwich. "There's another one. Who's taking it?"

"Where's it at?" Alex asked, cocking her head a little.

"Hospital."

Dean twirled the keys around his finger. "We've got it. Finish the sandwich." Without another word, he turned and walked right back out of the motel room. Alex sighed and trudged back out. "Don't complain, puppy," he called over his shoulder cheerfully. "You wanted stuff to do, so here we go!"

It didn't take them all that long to get to the hospital. Only about fifteen minutes, and another five tacked on so that they could meander through the hospital until they found the doctor Alex and Sam had spoken with standing outside a door.

"So, what happened?" Alex asked as she watched a nurse roll a body bag out of a hospital room. Her hands were clasped before her, Dean at her side. The doctor looked a little confused as he looked at Dean.

"I thought-"

"The other one was a trainee," Alex cut in, waving him off. "He was a little disturbed by Amber Freer, so we gave him a break, didn't we?" She glanced at Dean beneath her lashes, and he nodded curtly without speaking. "Now tell us. What happened?"

The doctor sighed. "Guy got electrocuted," he said.

"Any idea how?" Dean asked, folding his arms thoughtfully as he looked after the body bag.

"Maybe a loose wire or a piece of equipment shorted out," the doctor said with a shrug, not looking bothered. "So far, we haven't found anything."

"Witnesses?" Alex questioned.

"Yeah, the guy in there." He nodded towards the room they'd wheeled the body out of, shifting his weight a little. Alex and Dean looked inside to find an old man sitting in a chair, his stunned face turned towards the window. "Mr. Stanley says he saw it. But he's not making a lick of sense; he's senile."

"I'll talk with him," Alex told the doctor. "Perhaps we can get some sense out of him. Thank you." She smiled dismissively and the doctor frowned at them before leaving with a shrug. He didn't care, which only made Alex glare at his back. Alex turned back to Dean when he was gone. "He's even more of a twat than you, Winchester."

Dean ignored that in favor of ducking into the room. Alex stepped in after him, her expression softening as Mr. Stanley sniffled, still crying from the loss of the man he'd been with. "Mr. Stanley?" Alex called quietly.

"It was just a joke," he said, looking out the window rather than at them. "I didn't know it would really work. It was...it was just a joke."

"What would work?" Even Dean had softened a little and was watching the man before them with caution.

"All I did was shake his hand," they were told as Mr. Stanley stretched out his hand, showing them a little prank buzzer that had Dean and Alex exchanging curious looks.

* * *

"You're enjoying this way too much," Alex said, planting a set of sunglasses onto her nose. Beside her, Sam agreed with a hasty nod. The trio of hunters had long since abandoned their formal dress in favor of jeans, T-shirts, and fleeces. In Alex's case, she'd donned her leather jacket. Which, she was worried about as Dean held the buzzer in his rubber-gloved hand.

"Nah," Dean said with a grin. He looked at the uncooked ham before him, looking excited to have so much of it. Without hesitation, they all watched as Dean pressed the buzzer to the surface of the ham. Their eyes widened when it crackled, frying the ham to the point that it changed color, blackening into a crisp, burnt mess. It was sizzling by the time Dean pulled the buzzer away. They all gawked at the sight of the burnt ham.

"What the hell?" Sam muttered. "That...that stupid stuff isn't even supposed to work."

Dean plucked the sunglasses he'd put on his face out of the way, cocking his head as he studied the ham. "This thing doesn't even have batteries," he told them. He carefully put it aside and then removed his hands from the gloves, tossing said gloves at Alex. She snapped her jaws, admittedly salivating at the smell of cooked ham in the air.

Dean apparently had the same idea, because he cheerfully grabbed a knife and began to cut the ham as he suggested, "Could be cursed objects. Or even a powerful witch in town." He removed the piece of hand and popped it in his mouth, chewing as he added, "Is there any link between the buzzer and the itching powder?"

"One was made in China, the other Mexico, but both were bought from the same store," Alex reported, sauntering over to the ham with a hopeful expression on her face. She looked to Dean, who paused with the knife halfway into the ham. Grinning, he cut her a piece and handed it over. She ate it eagerly with a happy sound, and Dean then offered a piece to Sam.

Sam looked disgusted. "That thing killed someone."

"Sam," Dean drawled, "ham is ham."

"And it's delicious," Alex agreed, snatching another piece when he offered it.

Shaking his head, Sam sighed, "Why don't we just...go check out the place?"

Alex pouted but took a final piece and went to grab the leash she knew she'd need.

* * *

Alex held still as Sam carefully strapped the vest onto her large body, looking guilty as he said, "I always hate using this. You're not actually a therapy animal and it feels like we're mocking the people who need them." She rolled her eyes at him and shook herself as Sam took the leash in hand and led her over to where Dean waited on the sidewalk, smirking at Alex, who clicked her jaws at him once.

 _Bloody bastard._

They entered the prank shop, Dean lighting up like a child at Christmas as he took in all of the toys around him. Alex stared at him incredulously as the man who was so serious that he'd been wary of his brother after the demon blood took a whoopee cushion, studied it, and immediately went to the checkout counter.

" _No_ ," Sam breathed in horror, and Alex nodded her head in agreement.

Bringing Dean had been a bad idea.

"Welcome to the Conjurarium, sanctum of magic and mystery!" They looked over to find a man with long stringy brown hair coming out of the back, eyeing them curiously. He came to stand behind the counter and Sam joined Dean at the front. He eyed Alex with distaste, but she responded by flashing him her teeth in a wolfish grin and he quickly focused on Sam when Sam asked if he was the owner. "Yep."

"You sold any itching powder or joy buzzers lately?" Dean said to get the attention off of Sam and Alex.

The owner looked bewildered as he nodded. "Yeah, a grand total of one of each. They aren't really big-ticket items, you know? Look, are you here to buy something or what? I can't say I like dogs."

Dean hastily pulled out his wallet and handed some cash over for the whoopee cushion, earning even more of a horrified look from Alex. Sam ignored them both and said casually, "So...you get many customers?"

"Kids come in," was his answer. He shrugged a little. "They don't buy much, but they're more than happy to break it all." He scowled now, irritated at the thought. "These days, all they care about are their iPhones and those kissing vampire movies. The whole thing makes me so angry. This shop has been my life for twenty years and now...it's wasting away to nothing."

"Which is why you hate them," Dean said carefully. "You wish there was something you could do about it." The owner admitted that he supposed he did, and Alex jumped when Dean took a rubber chicken from a nearby display and slammed it onto the counter, making it shriek with a sound as if it was dying. "With this."

"Dean-" Sam protested, but it was too late. Dean had slammed the buzzer onto the chicken, shocking the hell out of it. The owner of the shop screeched in shock and leaped back as the rubber melted into nothing. The owner stared at them in shock, terrified, and Sam sighed heavily. "Yeah," he muttered ot Alex, "something tells me this guy is not a powerful witch."

Alex snorted her agreement.

* * *

The next morning found Dean and Sam leaving Alex alone in the motel room, agreeing to go and take a look at a new development in the case: a man had supposedly had all of his teeth yanked out by the tooth fairy, a.k.a. a man in a tutu with shimmering wings and a set of pliers. She was pleased to see them go, and by the time they came back, she was halfway through the ham that Dean had "made" the day before, looking smugly at the horrified Dean.

"That's my ham," he whispered.

Snickering, Alex popped another piece in her mouth and said, "Anything important?"

"The guy really thought it was the tooth fairy," Sam told her, rolling his eyes. "And then we found there were a couple of kids upstairs in the hospital who had stomach ulcers from mixing Pop Rocks and soda. Another guy's face froze that way." He smirked, tossing his all ready prepared phone to Alex, who caught it and took a look at the screen.

"You didn't," Dean said quietly, a deadly look on his face, and Alex burst into hysterical laughter. In tears, she pleaded for Sam to send the image of Dean on his phone to her. "Sam!"

Sam merely snickered and said, "I found something." He held up a map for them both to see. He spread out the map on the table after Alex moved the half-eaten ham away, pointing to an X he'd marked. "This was the tooth fairy attack," he said as Alex rejoined them, squeezing between he and Dean. He pointed to another, and then more as he explained. "Itching powder, face freeze, joy buzzer, even candy and soda were all located within a two-mile radius."

"So," Dean said slowly, eyeing the marks. "We got a blast zone of weird and inside, fantasy becomes reality." Sam nodded. "And what's the A-bomb at its center?"

"Four acres of farmland and a house."

"I'm going this time," Alex said. "And if you let me drive, Dean, I'll not touch a single second portion of that ham. It'll be all yours."

Dean gave her a long look, seeming to contemplate as he eyed his ham. Finally, he said, "Fine. But I call the passenger seat, and if you get so much as a single _scratch_ on Baby, I'm skinning your other form alive. And this means Sam's deleting that picture and you never mention it again." With great reluctance, he placed his car keys into the hands of the bouncing skinwalker. Sam stared at him in utter shock.

"Deal." Alex hopped over to the door, nearly squealing in excitement. "Thank you!"

"I better not regret this," Dean said darkly, quickly following her, and Sam trailed after them, still as shocked as he'd been a moment before.

What the hell was this world coming to?

* * *

Alex wasn't a bad driver, knowing precisely what she was doing as they made their way to the farmhouse Sam had found, and by the time they got there, Dean was much more relaxed than he'd started out as. He even let her keep a grip on the keys as they walked up the driveway, Dean and Sam in their suits with Alex in her leather jacket and jeans.

"Got everything?" Dean checked, touching the demon knife in his belt. Sam nodded; he'd tucked a gun into place at the small of his back, and Alex chirped cheerfully that she had her blade as she always did.

They'd just stepped onto the porch when the door opened, revealing a suspicious looking boy. "Can I help you?" he snapped, glaring at them. He narrowed his eyes when he took in the suits and then Alex.

"Hullo," she said gently. "What's your name?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Smart kid," Dean muttered, flashing his fake badge at him. Sam did the same, and the kid eyed them for a few more moments before holding his hand out to Dean.

"Let me see that," he said sharply. Dean handed it over, and the child studied it before handing it back, looking to Alex. "If you're FBI, then what about her?"

Alex flashed her teeth at him with a warm look in her eyes, smiling broadly. "I'm under their protection," she hummed, making Sam snort. As if she needed that on a regular day. "Are your parents home?"

"They work." He shifted uneasily.

"Could we ask you a few questions?" Sam asked kindly. "Maybe take a look around the house?"

When the kid hesitated, Dean offered, "Come on, you can trust us. We're the authorities." He eyed them suspiciously for a few more moments before finally sighing and stepping aside to let them in. Alex sauntered inside first, Dean only a step behind her with a thoughtful look in his green eyes. Sam smiled warmly at the kid before following them inside. Both he and Dean knew what it was like to be alone when your parents were gone.

After introducing himself as Jesse, the boy went to check on some soup boiling on the stove. Just to entertain Jesse, Alex watched him with curious eyes and asked quietly, "What's that, Jesse?"

"It's called soup," he said dryly, shaking dark hair from his brown eyes. He was cute, Alex would admit, with that mop of hair and freckles brushed over the bridge of his nose. He was clothed in decently fashionable clothing for a kid his age, too. "You heat it up and you eat it."

Sam chuckled. "We used to make our own dinner, too," he told Jesse. "When we were kids."

"Well, I'm not a kid."

As Sam introduced himself as Robert to Jesse, trying to hold a conversation that wasn't awkward, Dean took notice of some artwork on the fridge. He stepped closer to investigate, arching a brow. He nodded towards it when he caught Alex's eye and she wrinkled her nose anxiously at the sight of a bearded man in a pink tutu with bubblegum colored wings.

Lovely.

"Did you draw this?" Dean asked, glancing over at Jesse. When Jesse stopped to take a look before returning to his soup, he nodded, claimed it was the tooth fairy, and then turned back to his soup. "Is this...is this what you think the tooth fairy looks like?"

"Yeah. My dad told me about him." Jesse gave him a pointed look over his shoulder. "Didn't your dad tell you about the tooth fairy?"

Even Alex, who'd only heard a few stories through her time with the Winchester, snorted at that, earning a small glare from the brothers. "My dad told me different stories," Dean told him quietly.

"Well," Jesse hummed, nodding. "The tooth fairy isn't a story."

"What about itching powder, Jesse? What do you know about that?" Alex asked, turning the subject around. "And what about Pop Rocks and Coca Cola?"

"That stuff will make you scratch your brains out." Jesse made a face. "You mix them and you'll end up in the hospital. You guys really should know more than you do. Everyone knows that. Even weird-sounding people."

Alex squawked in mock outrage, and Dean snickered before holding up the buzzer he'd brought with him in his pocket. "What about this?"

"You shouldn't have that, it can electrocute you," Jesse said warningly.

"Actually," Dean told him, "it can't. It's just a wind-up toy. Totally harmless. Doesn't even have batteries."

Jesse was startled by this. "So...it can't shock you?"

"Nope. Not at all." Dean beamed and then added, "I mean, all it does is just shake in your hand. Kind of lame, right? See?" He pressed it to Sam's chest without hesitation and Alex jolted in preparation to try and rip him away as Sam stiffened, turning a murderous look on his brother when nothing happened.

Alex growled low in her throat, drawing a curious look from Jesse.

She was going to kill him.

They chatted calmly with Jesse for a few minutes and Alex gave him her number to call in case he needed help before they decided to leave, Jesse questioning why Alex would give up her phone number instead of the FBI doing so. She'd shrugged. It was easier to get a hold of her, she'd told the kid.

"Dude," Sam said darkly as they returned to the Impala, Alex cheerfully sauntering right over to the driver's seat. "What the hell?"

"I had a hunch," Dean said with a shrug. "I went with it."

"You risked my ass on a _hunch_?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Now we know who's turning this town into Willy Wonka's worst nightmare, drama queen." He jerked his head towards the house. "Everything Jesse believes comes true. He thinks the tooth fairy looks like Belushi, joy buzzers really shock people, boom. That's what happens."

Alex cleared her throat to catch their attention. "So if we convince him, then the toys don't actually work. He likely doesn't even know he's doing it, boys." She glanced back and found Jesse watching them through a window, nervous. She waved. "I think the question is...how's he doing it?"

* * *

It didn't take them long to find out important information about Jesse. Sam unsealed sealed records upon finding he was adopted and they decided to head to Elk Creek, Nebraska in order to find out what they could from Jesse's biological mother, Julia Wright.

When they arrived, Dean eyed the rusty gate, taking Alex's leash from his brother as his gaze shifted from the gate to the rundown house. He was in his suit _again_ , he noted grouchily. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spent so much time in it. Alex shook out her fur, deciding a canine appearance would be more beneficial. She kept close enough that the leash was slacking, and he smirked a little when he noticed a few piece of fur sticking out in odd angles after her nap in the car.

"Ready?" Sam said, and hey headed for the front door. When they reached it, the tall Winchester carefully rang the doorbell. They only had to wait a few moments before the door was answered.

"Whatever you're selling," the woman who answered the door muttered, "I'm not interested." Alex eyed her curiously. She was older, with a haunted look in her eyes. Poor woman. Something had definitely happened to her.

"We're not salesmen. Agents Page and Plant, FBI," Dean told her. Alex snorted. Such stupid names. Yet, when Julia ordered, they slid their badges through the mail slot. Finally, the door opened and Julia handed back the badges with a heavy sigh, demanding to know what they wanted. "We had a few questions. 'Bout your son."

Sensing her discomfort, Alex pushed forward and touched her nose to the woman's hand. She looked at Dean in confusion and he waved for her to do whatever. "She won't bite."

Slowly, Julia ran her fingers over Alex's head, and she let her, wagging her tail as Sam said, "He was born in Omha, back in nineteen-ninety-eight." Julia said nothing, refusing to look up at him. "You put him up for adoption?"

"What about him," Julia said sharply at last. Her fingers scratched behind Alex's ear and Alex felt an odd twitch that made her want to kick her leg.

"We were just wondering," Sam said slowly, "was it a normal pregnancy? Anything strange?"

Julia stiffened and Alex sensed what was coming a moment before she shoved away, slamming the door in their faces as she shrieked, "Stay away from me!"

Dean frowned, opening his mouth to speak, but grunted when Alex simply nudged the door back open. She'd slammed it so hard it hadn't latched and had fled before locking it. She trotted through the house with Dean and Sam hurrying in after her. Julia fled into a room and Alex woofed when she shut the door to it. She looked back, stepping aside as Dean opened the door and called, "Mrs. Wright, we just want to talk-"

Just as he and Sam stepped into the room, they found themselves drenched in a mass of salt that had been thrown at them. They all stared at the frightened woman before them, as if uncertain of what to think. Julia looked shocked. "You're...not demons?"

Alex cocked her heat curiously. _How does she know about demons?_

"We just want to talk," Sam said. "Something's going on and we think you're the only one who can help us, Mrs. Wright."

Julia studied them closely for a few more moments before nodding curtly and reluctantly agreeing. "I'm...I want some tea, though," she mumbled. Dean nodded and she sent them to a table in a dining room. Alex trotted along behind the Winchesters, leash trailing behind her. Dean unclipped it for her and handed it over to Sam, who shoved it into his pocket. She dropped to lay between them when they'd sat down, resting her chin on white paws.

By the time Julia had joined them, she looked a little calmer. She took a sip of tea after sitting down and then set the cup aside, folding her arms tightly. She looked between them and then said quietly, "I was possessed. A demon took control of my body, and I hurt people. I killed people."

Sam looked across the table at her and said quietly, "That wasn't you, Mrs. Wright."

"But I was there. I heard a woman beg for mercy. Felt a young girl's blood drip down my hands."

"That's how you knew about the salt," Dean said thoughtfully, looking down when Alex shifted. She was inhaling sharply, sniffing for any odd scents. She flipped her ears back against her head when she realized he was looking. Negative.

"It was in my head for nine months," Julia said evenly, lifting her gaze.

"So your son," Sam realized, and she broke in before he could finish.

"The whole time. The pregnancy, the birth, all of it. I was possessed. The night the baby was born, I was alone. The pain was...the pain was overwhelming. I screamed, and I screamed. The demon was so very happy. It used my body to give birth to a child. When it was over, something changed. Maybe the demon was tired or if the pain helped me fight it, but...somehow, I took control.

"The demon wailed inside me. It pounded against my skull. I thought my head was gonna explode. But I knew what I had to do. I took the salt and I poured it down my throat. There was a mass of smoke, and then I was me again. When I was alone with the baby, a part of me...a part of me wanted to kill it. But, God help me, I couldn't do that. So I put it up for adoption and ran."

Alex made a low sound in her throat, sympathetic. She'd been through a lot, this woman before them. Dean and Sam were quiet for a moment, absorbing the information she'd given them, and it was with great reluctance that Dean asked, "Who was the father?"

Julia studied him closely, shaking her head. "I was a virgin." She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Have you seen my son? Is he human?"

"His name's Jesse," Dean said quietly. "He lives in Alliance. He's a good kid."

Julia only nodded.

* * *

The car ride back was near silent except for a quick agreement that Dean would pray to Castiel to meet them at their motel room. He didn't let them down; when they arrived, Castiel was patiently standing in the middle of the room, watching the door as he waited for them. Alex came in a few minutes later, having changed forms and dressed herself outside in the parking lot.

Closing the door behind her, she said with a sigh as she went to get a glass of water, "Good to know you got the message." She spun around when she was done, lifting the glass to her lips and leaning back against the counter.

"It's lucky you found the boy," Castiel said curtly, glancing between the three of them.

Dean shrugged off his suit jacket after setting the demon knife aside and Sam began to loosen his tie as Dean said, "Yeah, real lucky. What do we do with the kid?"

"Kill him."

Alex choked on her water, coughing harshly as Dean and Sam stopped to stare at the angel. Castiel met Dean's gaze evenly, entirely serious. "Cas," Alex said hoarsely, setting her glass aside. "You can't be bloody serious."

He turned an entirely serious look on the skinwalker, narrowing his eyes a little. "The child is half demon, half human, but more powerful than either. Other cultures call this hybrid cambion or katako. You know him as the antichrist." When Sam furrowed his brow in confusion, questioning if he was the devil's son, Castiel nearly scoffed. "Of course not. Your Bible gets more wrong than it does right. The antichrist is not Lucifer's child. It's just demon spawn, but it is one of the devil's greatest weapons in the war against Heaven."

"Well," Dean said irritably, hating where this conversation was going, "if Jesse's a demonic howitzer, then what the hell's he doing in Nebraska?" He tossed his suit jacket over a chair and removed his tie before folding his arms, glaring.

"The demons lost him. They can't find him, but they're looking," Castiel said. Dean arched a brow, waiting, and Castiel sighed heavily. "The child's power hides him from both angels and demons for now."

"So," Dean said as he tried to make sense of it all, "he's got a force field around him. Great, problem solved." He beamed at his brother as Sam joined them. Not liking to be left out, Alex left her stance in the kitchen and came to join them, standing so close to Dean that her arm brushed his.

"With Lucifer risen, this child grows strong," Castiel explained. Alex nodded; that was why he was suddenly accidentally making toys into killing machines. "Soon, he will do more than just make a few toys come to life. Something will draw the demons to him. They will find this child and Lucifer will twist this boy to his purpose. And then, with a single word, this child could destroy the host of Heaven."

"So...Jesse's gonna nuke the angels is what you're saying?"

"We cannot allow that to-"

Sam suddenly cut in, looking between them in horror. Alex matched his expression, her jaw working furiously. "We're...we're the good guys," he said curtly. "We...we don't just...kill children, Dean."

"A year ago," Castiel said quietly, "you would have done whatever it took to win this war. All of you."

"Castiel," Alex barked, furious, and Dean put a hand on her shoulder when she took an aggressive step towards the angel, annoyed that he would say such a thing. Her good eye glared viciously at him. To think that she would kill a child just to stop something like a war-

"Hey," Dean cut in, glancing between the three around them. "Look, we're not going to kill Jesse. All right? But we can't just leave Jesse here either, guys. We know that. So...we take him to Bobby's. He'll know what to do." Alex narrowed her gaze at him, and he arched a brow as she reluctantly nodded. Bobby would know what to do.

"You'll kidnap him?" Castiel challenged, shaking his head. "What is going on in this town...it's what happens when this thing is happy. You cannot imagine what it will do if it's angry. Besides, how will you hold him? With a thought, he could be halfway around the world."

"So we tell him the truth," Sam said quietly. Alex turned to look at him, her blue eyes wide and with a hint of relief that he seemed to be the most sane, although Dean's original suggestion of taking him to Bobby had been a good one, too. "Yous ay Jesse's destined to go dark side - fine. But he hasn't yet, Cas. So if we lay it all out for him...what he is, the apocalypse, _everything_...he might make the right choice."

Alex's stomach jolted when Castiel said in a cold voice, "You didn't. And I can't take that choice."

" _Cas_ ," she snarled, but he was all ready gone. "Bloody hell, we need to _go_."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, lunging for his keys. "Go get in the car. Sam, you got the demon knife?"

"Where you left it." Sam grabbed it and they ran out of the room, Dean forgoing his suit jacket and tie.

They had bigger fish to fry.

* * *

The second they reached Jesse's house, Alex was throwing herself out of the car before Dean had even thrown it into park. She sprinted across the lawn, the Winchesters a step behind her. Alex didn't falter when she reached the front door, merely kicked it open with a growl. It flew open and her gaze took in the situation quickly.

Jesse was standing in the middle of the living room across the hall, and when he heard her, he spun around, staring at her in fear. His fear relaxed a little when he saw the Winchesters, recognizing them from earlier. Heaving for air, Dean demanded, "Was there a guy here? In a trench coat."

Speechless, Jesse pointed at the floor. Alex strode into the living room, panting a little, and then froze when she took in what he was looking at. After a moment, she strode over to the spot and picked up a little action figure that looked precisely like Castiel with a silver angel blade held high above his head. "Oh, bloody hell," she whispered, turning to show Dean when he stepped after her, Sam going to make sure that Jesse was okay.

He took the action figure from her fingers, his breath hitching in surprise. "Well," he muttered, studying it. "I'd buy it." She glared at him and he ignored her, setting the action figure on the mantlepiece of the fireplace in the living room. Jesse dropped to sit on a couch and Sam settled carefully nearby on a comfy looking chair as Jesse spoke.

"Was...was he your friend?"

"No," Dean lied immediately. Better not to worry the poor kid and make him think they were after him.

Jesse's voice quivered as he looked to Alex, who had gone to sit beside him on the chair, a sympathetic look in her eyes. "I did that," he whispered. "But how did I do that?"

Alex smiled gently, reassuringly. "You…"

"You're a superhero," Dean supplied hastily, and Alex glanced at him in surprise. Sam said nothing, curious to see if Jesse would believe them. "I mean, who else could turn someone into a toy? You're Superman minus the cape and the go-go boots, kid. See, my partner and I work for a secret government agency. It's our job to find kids with special powers. In fact, we're here to take you to a hidden base in South Dakota, where you'll be trained to fight evil. Alex here, she's a superhero, too."

Jesse looked to her expectantly and she flashed him a smile, sharpening her teeth into their canine-like appearance. He jumped, but looked a little interested rather than scared. "Like the X-Men?"

"Exactly like the X-Men," Alex said gently, unsure of what the X-Men actually were.

Chuckling, Dean told him, "In fact, the guy we're taking you to? He's even in a wheelchair. You'll be a hero, save lives. Sounds like fun, right?"

Dean had barely finished his sentence before he was suddenly sent flying. Alex shrieked in surprise and Sam flew to his feet only to be flung back against a wall, too. Alex snarled, protectively hovering over Jesse as a familiar woman stepped into the room, eyes as black as night. "They're lying to you," the demon possessing Julia Wright crooned to Jesse. She curled a lip at Alex, who growled low in her throat, and then promptly flicked a finger. Alex grunted as she hit the ground on the other side of the room, rolling.

Jesse gave a small cry of protest, flying to his feet, but the demon turned on him. "Stay right there, dreamboat," she drawled. "Can't hurt you...orders and all. You, on the other hand?" She looked upon Alex with a grin as the skinwalker rolled onto her back, gasping for air. Her gaze turned onto Dean next. "And you? Hurting both of you's encouraged.

Sam clenched his jaw, knowing precisely why he wasn't included in the free for all.

"Leave them alone!" Jesse shouted at the demon furiously.

The demon sauntered closer and leaned down so that her face was near his. He glared at her defiantly. "Jesse," she breathed. "You're beautiful. You have your father's eyes." Jesse said nothing, and she laughed softly. "Don't you recognize your mother?"

His expression hardened. "No, you're not my mother," Jesse said.

She hummed in response. "You're half-human," she told him. "Your other half is...well, to put it simply...demon." She straightened, tightening her hand into a fist and Dean groaned in agony. Sam gave a call of his brother's name, worried, and Alex snarled from where she'd rolled onto her stomach, pushing herself onto her knees. Jesse didn't look convinced, and the demon coaxed, "Those people you call your parents lied to you, too. You're not theirs. Not really."

"My mom and dad love me," Jesse said calmly. And he was sure they did. How could they not? Even when they left him home alone, they loved him.

As if reading his mind, the demon challenged, "Do they? Is that why they leave you alone all day? Because they love you so much? These imposters told you that the tooth fairy was real and that your toys could hurt you and a hundred other things that aren't true. They love you so much, they made your whole life a lie. Look into your heart, Jesse. You've always known you weren't theirs. You've always known you were different. Everyone has lied to you. They're not FBI agents," she said, gesturing to Sam and Dean, "and you're not a superhero."

"Then what am I?"

"You're powerful. You can have anything you want...do anything you want."

"Don't," Alex barked out at the demon, determined. She hoisted herself to her feet. She snapped her jaws when pain shot through a leg followed by a sharp, horrible-sounding snap, and she crumpled with a high-pitched yelp. Her hands shook as she touched her thigh, hissing. Agonized tears fell from her eyes.

Jesse looked horrified, looking at Alex and then at the demon. His hand closed into a fist, and they all stiffened when the room began to tremble violently around them, as if an earthquake was striking. The fire in the fireplace burst into full blaze. "Wouldn't it be better if there were no lies?" the demon crooned as picture frames shattered. "Come with me and you can wash it all clean. Start over. Imagine that. A world without lies."

"She's right," Sam said suddenly and the demon's head snapped in his direction. "We lied to you, but I'll tell you the truth." The demon lifted a fist to him and he choked, eyes widening a little.

But Jesse had locked onto him. "Stop it," he snapped. The demon looked startled when Sam hit the ground on his hands and knees, gasping for air. "I want to hear what he has to say."

"You're stronger than I thought," the demon muttered, scowling as Sam stumbled to his feet. Dean watched with a stony expression, glancing from Sam, to Jesse, to the demon, and finally to Alex, frowning when he saw the way she was doubled over her leg.

Sam cleared his throat and said a bit hoarsely, "We lied to you. And I'm sorry. So here's the truth. I'm Sam Winchester. That's my brother, Dean. We hunt monsters." He gestured to his brother, and then to Alex. "And that's Alex Montgomery. She's a skinwalker and she hunts demons, too. And that woman right there...her name is Julia. She's your mother, but the thing inside of her, the thing that you're talking to...it's a demon."

Jesse's gaze wavered. "A demon?"

The demon spoke up, looking agitated. "He's done nothing but lie to you since the moment you met him. Don't listen to him. Punish him."

They all flinched when Jesse barked, "Sit down and shut up." The chair Sam had once occupied shot over and the demon squawked as she was forced into it, struggling to speak. Sam hesitated and Jesse looked back to him with patience, waiting.

"There's...a war between angels and demons," Sam continued finally. "And you're a part of it. You can go with her if you want. I can't stop you." He gave a faint laugh. "No one can. But if you do, millions of people will die."

Jesse said bitterly, "She said I was half demon. Is that true?"

"Yes," Alex croaked from where she was on the floor. She lifted her gaze and Sam closed his mouth, letting her speak despite the pain she was in. "But you're half human, too, Jesse. You can do the right thing. You've got choices. Like me. I'm one of the monsters…" She paused to take a shaking breath in. "I'm one of the monsters the bloody Winchesters hunt, but I'm using my status as an advantage against the bad guys. If...if you make the wrong choices...it'll haunt you. For life."

Jesse pressed his lips together and stared at her before demanding with tears in his eyes, furious, "Why are you telling me this?!"

"Because," Sam said, smiling faintly at Jesse. "We have to believe someone can make the right choice. Even if I couldn't."

Thinking this over, Jesse turned to study the demon. He listened to Alex's heavy breaths, noted that Sam was watching him with a hesitant smile, encouraging yet willing to conform to whatever Jesse decided. And then he looked at the demon, who was watching him with greedy hateful eyes. With a scowl, he clenched his fist like she had and said, "Get out of her."

Her head snapped back and black smoke poured from Julia's mouth, disappearing up the chimney. Julia slumped in the chair unconscious, and Dean grunted as he dropped to the ground, eyes wide. He looked up at Jesse. "How did you do that?"

Jesse shrugged, looking at him beneath his lashes. "I just did."

Dean grinned. "Kid," he told him, "you're awesome." When Jesse beamed a little, looking pleased with the compliment, he chuckled and then went to check on Alex. Sam went to make sure that Julia was alive as he did so, listening curiously as Dean squatted beside Alex and asked in a low voice, "You good, mutt?"

She gave him a small, weak glare. "Don't call me mutt," she growled and then shook her head. He tried to figure out how to move her without jostling the leg too badly but couldn't see a good way. Finally, he jabbed a finger at the space they'd left Castiel's action figure in and turned his head to look at the kid. "Hey, could you turn him back? We kind of need him for this."

"He tried to kill me," Jesse said pointedly, narrowing his eyes.

"Right, but he's a good guy. He was just confused." Jesse said nothing. "Okay, it's been a long night. We'll talk about it later." Dean turned back to Alex and said, "It'll heal, right? Just gotta set it? How long does a broken leg take?"

"Too long," she said curtly.

Jesse hesitantly approached, looking down at Alex. She smiled faintly at him, her face white with pain. "Hullo," she drawled, voice cracking a little. Sweat had gathered on her forehead. "You alright, Jesse?"

He didn't answer, instead curiously resting a hand on her leg. She grunted in surprise when the pain vanished as if it had never been there. She jolted in surprise and stared at the young boy as he pulled away, not saying a word about what he had just done. "...thanks," she rasped.

Dean looked startled. "He fixed it?"

"He fixed it," she said and promptly climbed to her feet, using Dean's shoulder to hoist herself to her feet. He waited until she was upright to stand, and turned to find Sam staring at them. "What?" they challenged, and then glared at each other for speaking in unison.

Shaking his head, Sam sighed, and Jesse asked quietly, "What now?"

"Now," Dean said, smiling at him, "we take you someplace safe, get you trained up. You'd be real handy in a fight, kid."

"What if I don't want to fight?"

Sam came forward to speak to him. He crouched a little so Jesse didn't have to look up at him. "Then you don't have to. You're powerful. Much more powerful than anything we've ever seen. That makes you-"

"A freak," Jesse finished with a huff.

"To some people, maybe, but not to us. Look at us. We're freaks ourselves." He gestured to Alex in particular, earning himself a nasty look from the skinwalker as she growled under her breath at him.

Jesse looked between the three of them. "I...can't stay here, can I?"

"No," Dean answered. 'The demons know where you are. More will be coming."

"I won't go without my mom and dad." Jesse gave them a stubborn look and Alex clucked her tongue in sympathy. She could imagine how he felt, and thought of her own mother and father. She moved closer and smiled as she rested her hand on his shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze.

"There's nothing more important than family," she said softly. "We all get that. And if you really want to take them with you, we'll back you up, you know. But you need to understand, Jesse, that it going to be dangerous for them, too."

Jesse looked at her for a long moment, seeking an explanation, and Dean said quietly, "Our dad would take us where he went." His gaze turned on Dean and Dean met it evenly, his jaw working furiously. "He's dead, killed by a demon. Once you're in this fight, kid, you're in it 'til the end, win or lose. It's your choice. It's not fair, we know, but it's your choice."

"Can...I go see my parents?" Jesse bit his lip, looking upset. "I need to say goodbye." He choked a little on the word.

"Of course, sweetheart," Alex said with a firm nod. She nudged him towards the stairs and he went up them reluctantly. When he was gone, Sam went to examine the Castiel figurine, and Alex sighed heavily, looking after Jesses with a mournful look. He reminded her of herself, almost. Just enough to make the pain that had remained yet faded come shooting through her heart with a stabbing pain as she remembered her brother.

She missed her family.

It killed her that her brother was gone, and she rubbed her aching heart as Dean pushed his hands into his pockets, ready to sleep for a long, long time.

They'd been standing there for far too long when Dean said quietly, "He's been up there way too long."

Alex tore up the stairs without hesitation, the Winchesters a step behind her. They burst into Jesse's room, only to find it empty. Her heart filled with dread and even as Sam went to investigate a single piece of paper on the bed, she knew where he'd gone.

"He's gone." Castiel's voice had Dean snapping his head around to look at the angel. It was good to know that he was back, Alex thought, even with how much he'd pissed them off earlier, but it didn't help with the pain in her chest.

"Where?" Sam asked quietly, staring at the note.

"I don't know. Jesse put everyone in town back to normal. The ones still alive. Then he vanished."

"What does the note say?" Alex asked Sam quietly.

"That he had to leave to keep his parents safe, that he loves them, and he's sorry." Sam looked pained by the words on the page as he looked over at Castiel. Alex turned to look at the angel, too. "How do we find him?"

"With the boy's powers we can't," Castiel said grimly. "Not unless he wants to be found."

Then the angel was gone, and the three hunters were left to once again hate their way of living, wishing that the worst thing in their lives was the fear of itching powder and wondering what life would be like if they could go to bed and feel safe.

* * *

 _Holy hell I updated quickly again. I'm so happy to. Not too much fluff, but some. I mean, Alex drove the Impala at long last!_

 _Thanks to reviewers (CarleighAlpha, ashley, and emily2696!) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	37. Changing Channels

From where he and Alex were sitting, hunched over the same laptop to do research on a case they picked up, Sam tried to ignore the sound of the TV nearby. Alex was clearly struggling as well, her nose wrinkling in disgust at the show Dean was watching. Finally, after struggling to ignore it for nearly half an hour, she turned around in her chair and narrowed her eyes at the eldest Winchester. "What the bloody hell are you watching, Winchester?"

He grinned at her with a suspicious glint in his eyes. "Hospital show. _Dr. Sexy, M.D._ I think it's based on a book."

"Well whoever reads that kind of nonsense is odd," Alex muttered under her breath at the same time that Sam demanded, "When did you hit menopause?" Alex snorted in amusement at Sam, flashing him an approving smirk. He rolled his eyes as Dean protested that he was merely channel surfing before getting up to turn the TV off.

"Can we go?" he huffed. "Or are you two gonna try and pry more information out of the laptop?"

"You go," Alex sighed, waving them off. "I'll stay here and see if there's been anything else maybe happening in surrounding areas, if only to make sure that nothing else odd has happened in any surrounding areas. Is that alright with you two?"

"Since when do you care what's okay with us?" Sam questioned.

"Since when do you ask so many questions?" she retorted, and he held his hands up in surrender before going to grab his suit jacket. She turned to watch as they fixed up their suits, making sure they were decently professional looking, and she smirked as she eyed them critically. "I think you have a wrinkle there," she said, pointing at Dean's face. "You know, just beside your eye. How old are you again? Do you think you got all of those years back?"

He glared at her for the reminder of the event the week before with the poker situation, in which Bobby had joined them because Dean had risked his years for a game of poker. He'd shown up as an old man in the motel room and Alex had nearly gutted him along with Sam pointing a gun at his head in terror. Neither had known what to make of the situation.

Alex was just glad it was all fixed.

Seeing Dean at that age had been terrifying.

She waved as the pair left, closing the door behind them, and then went back to what she'd been doing, pressing her lips together in thought. This whole situation was weird. She had a few theories on what was going on, but she'd wait to erase or confirm them until the boys came back.

With a sigh, Alex sat back, letting her gaze sneak over to the fridge - where she knew a certain Winchester had left a sandwich.

* * *

"One more time," the officer before them said, "the FBI is here...why?"

Dean clenched his jaw irritably, wanting to deck the guy so they could simply walk on without being questioned further, because he was seriously tired of the pesky officers doing their job too well. Couldn't they just accept the help and move on? "Might have something to do with one of your locals getting his head ripped off."

"Bill Randolph died from a bear attack." The officer scoffed as if they were stupid, and Sam eyed his brother when Dean shifted unhappily. "What else could it be?"

"Well," Dean said slowly, mocking the man without doing so outright, "whatever it was, it chased Mr. Randolph through the woods, smashed through his front door, followed him up the stairs, and killed him in his bedroom. Is that common? A bear doing all of that, I mean."

The officer scowled. "Depends how pissed it is, I guess. Look, the Randolphs live way up in the high country. You got trout runs to make a grown man weep." He ran a hand over his balding head. "And bears."

"Right," Sam said with a roll of his eyes. "Now what about Mrs. Randolph? The file says that she saw the whole thing."

The officer nodded. "She did. My heart goes out to that poor woman." When Dean asked if she'd said she'd seen a bear, he hastily defended, "Kathy Randolph went through a hell of a trauma, she's confused."

"Well, what did she say?" Sam demanded, and the officer hesitated before groaning.

"I'll go see if she'll talk to you. She's in the interview room." Without waiting to see if they agreed, the officer turned and left, leaving the two fake FBI agents to themselves. When he was gone, Dean scoffed, and Sam leaned back against the wall with a grimace. He hated working with the police.

After a moment of silence, Sam said, "So. What the hell did I miss that went on between you and Alex?"

Dean looked at him in confusion, furrowing his brow. "What do you mean? Nothing went on. She's a mutt. I don't do mutts."

Sam thought of what Alex had told him about the future and snorted. "'I don't do mutts,'" he muttered under his breath, quoting Dean and snickering at the fact that if that future actually came true, he'd use it against him. "You let her drive the car, Dean."

"She's been hangin' around for a while now, figured I could give her a chance," Dean defended, folding his arms. "And she's been getting nosy. Eating all of the food I buy. I figured it'd keep her off of it for a while. Besides, if we have three drivers, think of how little stopping we'll have to do when we're crossing states."

Astonished, Sam shook his head, and then focused when the cop came back, waving for them to follow him. He led the duo of hunters down a series of halls and stopped outside a door. "Like I said," he told them, "she's traumatized."

They nodded, reassuring him that they'd be nice to her, and then ducked into the interview room. A woman sat at the table before them, and Sam and Dean settled into the chairs on the other side of it. "Hello, Mrs. Randolph," Sam said politely.

"Please," she said, "Kathy."

"Kathy," he repeated. Sam exchanged a look with Dean and then turned back to Kathy. "So. Tell us. We hear that you don't think it was a bear that killed your husband."

"No," Kathy said with a small frown, her hands rubbing up and down on her arms. Her mousy frizzy hair was everywhere as she looked down at the table, her face blotchy from crying. "It must have been a bear - I mean, what else could it have been? I remember clearly now. It was definitely a bear."

"We're sure it was," Dean said with exaggerated patience, rolling his eyes when she didn't look. "But, see, it helps if we hear every angle. So why don't you just tell us what you thought you saw before you decided it was a bear?"

Sam kicked him under the table, but Kathy hesitantly nodded. Taking a shaken breath, she admitted, "It's impossible, but...I could have sworn I saw…" She flushed a brilliant red, embarrassed. "The Incredible Hulk." There was a brief moment in which they stared at her in utter shock. "I told you it was crazy."

Dean launched into a confirmation of which Hulk with Kathy as Sam sorted through what he could about all of this, utterly puzzled by this development. As they discussed the situation and got details from her, Sam pulled out his phone and sent a text to Alex.

They were going to be there a while.

* * *

They were finally freed a few hours later from talking with Kathy and the officer, and when they got back to the motel room, Alex was nowhere in sight - and neither was Dean's lunch, the eldest Winchester noticed almost immediately, scowling about it. He muttered under his breath as he came out of the bathroom after changing, pulling up an article about the murder of Mr. Randolph on his laptop, as well as some other interesting articles and information. Sam left him there, going to investigate the Randolphs' house.

Alex came in as he was reading about how a "local man was killed in a bear attack" - not. He snorted. "The hell have you been?" he said, glancing up at her.

"Down the street, getting some things," she said with a shrug. "Mostly food." Alex held out a bag of fast food, full of what she knew to be a burger and some fries. "I ate your sandwich and felt bad, so I went and got us all some lunch. Where's Sam?" She tossed him the bag and he eagerly tore into the fries, incredibly hungry after his morning.

"Checking out the Randolph house," he told her mid-chew. She made a face as she daintily joined him at the table, pulling out her own meal. She dug into the burger with a happy growl. "You hear what the wife thought she saw?"

"Incredible Hulk," she mused. "Sam texted me. Do you think it was really him?"

"Dunno, but the guy who was killed was a downright mess." Dean popped another fry into his mouth, leaning back. "I'll wait to tell ya until Sam gets back. Don't want to repeat myself fifty times."

Alex nodded to herself, thinking, and they sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she suddenly spoke. "I think we should go visit Bobby soon. He was so depressed the last time we saw him...he deserves some company. Plus, I got the only constant company he had killed." Her expression darkened a little at the mention of Avery, her heart aching. She missed her friend. Missed the mystery Avery had presented her with.

Dean nodded in agreement. They'd seen Bobby recently, when he'd been turned into an old man, but...they really did need to make more visits to South Dakota. Especially when they kept as close as they seemed to.

The two sat there for quite some time. When they were done eating, Sam's portion going cold in the meantime, they exchanged ideas about what the angels and demons could be up to and even about the current case. They were mid-talk about a shapeshifter when Sam finally walked in, taking in the sight of the pair with curious eyes. "Hey," he greeted, and Dean sat back.

"Find anything?" he said.

"I bought you food, but it's cold," Alex added, holding out his bag.

"Thanks, Alex." Sam took it and went to sit on the edge of the bed nearest to the table, kicking off his shoes and shoving his hand into the bag. "Well, I saw the house." Dean arched a brow as if to question him, and Sam took a deep breath. "And there's a giant eight-foot-wide hole in the front door used to be." Alex gave a low whistle. "What do you two have?"

"Well," Alex drawled, taking Dean's laptop from him and earning herself a sharp look. "It turns out that Mr. Bill Randolph had quite the temper. Two counts of spousal battery - poor Mrs. Randolph. Bar brawls, and even some court-ordered anger management sessions."

Dean's lips quirked. "You might say," he snickered, and Alex groaned in annoyance, because he'd all ready made this joke to her. "You wouldn't like him when he's angry."

Sam ignored him and turned to Alex, shoving more fries in his mouth. "So a hothead getting killed by TV's greatest hothead. Kinda sounds like just desserts, doesn't it? In any case, it's starting to all make sense." Alex arched a brow curiously and he pulled out a handful of candy wrappers from his pocket, letting them drop to the floor. "I found 'em at the crime scene. Way more than this."

"Just desserts, sweet tooth, screwing with people before you kill 'em," Dean listed. "We're dealing with the Trickster, aren't we."

" _No_ ," Alex wailed, burying her face in her hands, and Sam looked just as miserable about the idea as he confirmed that he thought they might be, too. "I don't want to see him again. Never again."

"You know," Dean said thoughtfully after admitting he'd wanted to kill the bastard since the ordeal in which he'd died a thousand times over with the Mystery Spot. "We never found out about what went down between you and him. You wanna spill? You knew him when we found him."

Alex's jaw worked furiously as she thought it over. Finally, she said, "There was this case I found before I met you idiots. A few months, maybe. Heard about some odd deaths, went to investigate, and was eating some breakfast when this man who smells off approaches me. Doesn't take me long to realize he's not human. But I chatted with him. Turns out he knew the second we met what I was. Hit it off pretty well, actually."

"Wait," Sam said slowly. "Don't tell me you and him hooked up?"

Alex snarled at Sam. "Bloody hell, that's disgusting. No, I didn't hook up with him. He flirted around with the idea, but I wasn't bloody having it. So I started interrogating him. Things went 'round and 'round until he got tired of it and left. Caught him by surprise two days later with my blade. Nearly got him, even managed to nick him with it. And then he got pissed and had me running in circles - literally. For the next twelve hours, I literally couldn't get anywhere. I was running in literal circles without wanting to, and I think the people in the town got suspicious and thought I was insane or something. So when he showed up again, mocking me, I told him that if he refrained from killing people, I'd leave him be."

"And?" Dean said

"And he stopped killing people and left me be, so I left him be until he showed up at the Mystery Spot." Alex curled a lip. "He's very odd. Greeted me by name without me ever needing to say it. I wonder about that Trickster."

"Well, I was thinking we could talk to him," Sam said, leaning back a little as he set aside a half-eaten burger and earning himself stares. "He's one of the most powerful creatures we've ever met, so maybe we can use him. Wine, women, song...maybe he doesn't want that party to end. Maybe he hates this angels and demons stuff as much as we do. Maybe he'll help us."

"You want to ally with the Trickster," Dean said bluntly.

Thinking it over, Alex inclined her head. "I think it'd be worth a shot," she told him.

"A bloody, violent murderer, and you wanna be Facebook friends with him? Nice, you two, real nice."

"The world is gonna end, Dean," Sam told his brother. "We don't have the luxury of a moral standpoint. I'm just saying it's worth a shot. That's all. If it doesn't work out, we'll kill him."

Dean didn't look pleased, but moved on, demanding, "How are we gonna find the guy, anyway?"

"Believe me," Alex muttered, tapping a finger in thought on the table. "He'll show up. The bloody fool will show himself at some point. Shall we start sharpening stakes?" She beamed, looking a little too excited about the activity in Dean's opinion, but he agreed. "Do we have any wood in the trunk? I'll go get it."

Dean tossed her the keys easily, closing his laptop. "Yeah. Should have a few pieces. Bring in a few knives, would you? Need something to sharpen 'em with. Sam, do we have any blood to dip 'em in?"

Sam shook his head. "I can get some though, after we have the stakes done."

"Sounds good."

Within the next two hours, they'd begun the work of sharpening stakes. Alex brought in one for each of them as well as a knife for each and handed them out. They worked quickly and with ease, carving the wooden pieces into sharpened stakes. Alex worked over the side of a bed, her legs criss-crossed as she sang a quiet lullaby to herself, not seeming to notice that the curious and nosy Winchesters were exchanging looks as they listened.

Sam set up the police scanner for them to listen to while they worked, and they were just finishing up when the scanner suddenly exclaimed, "Dispatch, I...I got a possible one-eight-seven out here at the old paper mill on Route Six?" Sam paused to look. So did Alex and Dean, their eyes sharp.

"Roger that," Dispatch responded a moment later. "What are we looking at there, son?"

"Honestly, Walt," the other person responded shakily. "I wouldn't even know how to describe what I'm seeing. Just...send everybody."

"Alright, just stay calm, stay by your car. Help's on the way."

Sam switched it off and looked up at the others. "Sounds weird enough to be our guy," he mused.

"Can I drive?" was Alex's hopeful response, holding up the keys she'd not given back, and with a roll of his eyes, Dean said she could.

* * *

They reached the old paper mill on the route that had been mentioned over the police scanner, and when they did, it didn't take them more than an instant to realize something was off. As Alex threw the Impala into park and shut the engine off, handing the keys over before climbing out, Dean mused, "There was a murder here, and there's no police cars. Nobody. How's that look to you two?"

"Crappy," Sam grumbled. He went around to the trunk, waiting for Dean to open it before handing Alex a stake and flashlight. He tossed one of each ot his brother and grabbed a set for himself before slamming it shut. With a nod, the trio headed for the building, faltering only briefly before entering.

They'd barely taken a step inside when music filled their ears. They all froze when they realized that they'd not stepped into a mill, but instead a hospital. Sam and Dean exchanged confused looks, realizing that they wore white lab coats, and Alex looked down at her hospital gown with a disgusted look of horror.

"What the hell?" Dean muttered as Alex seethed.

"Doctor," two people greeted Sam as they went by.

Alex whirled around and yanked the door they'd just stepped through open, grateful to feel the blade she'd had against her arm. It appeared that whatever had done this - the Trickster, she would bet - hadn't been able to take that like he had the stakes and flashlights. She groaned when she found a janitor closet - in which a man and woman were making out. "Oh, my bloody-" She slammed the door shut and slowly turned to face the Winchesters with a look of horror - in time to see a brunette woman slap Sam across the face.

"Ow!" Sam cried as Dean recoiled in a little bit of fear from her.

"Seriously," the woman snapped. And then she took on a small frown. "Seriously, you're brilliant, you know that? And a coward. You're a brilliant coward." Sam stared at her, questioning what she was talking about, and she slapped him again, crying, "As if you don't know." Without another word, she whirled around and stalked away.

"I can't believe this," Dean said, staring after in awe.

"What can't you believe?" Alex growled, folding her arms unhappily as the hospital gown brushed uncomfortably against her skin.

"That's...that's Dr. Piccolo," Dean told them. When they waited for a better explanation, he explained, "Dr. Ellen Piccolo, the sexy yet earnest doctor at-" He cut off, suddenly scowling when he caught sight of a sign that rested behind a reception desk, gesturing towards it angrily. "Seattle Mercy Hospital."

"Dean," Sam huffed, "we don't understand. What the hell are you talking about?"

"The doctor getups, the sexy interns, the 'seriously' stuff. It all makes sense. We're in _Dr. Sexy, MD._ " He suddenly began to stride down the hall, scowling as he thought about what this could mean. Alex and Sam exchanged a glance and rushed after him, all ready hating what they both guessed to be true.

"Let me get this straight," Alex rumbled as they hurried forward. "So we got trapped in this...bloody TV show by the Trickster, then?"

"That's your theory," Dean huffed, "and that's stupid."

"You're the one who said we're on _Dr. Sexy, MD_ ," Sam pointed out, rolling his eyes. He paused to wait when Alex got stuck behind someone rushing a journey by, frowning when Dean called over his shoulder for them to hurry up.

"Yeah," Dean said finally, "but the land of television shows isn't actually real. There's actors, and...and lights, and crew members. This looks _real_."

"There's no way this is real," Alex protested. "This is…" She suddenly paused, faltering as she inhaled sharply. Panic overtook her, and a high-pitched sound rose high in her throat. Good to know that she could still make those sounds, but - "I can't smell," she realized aloud in horror. "He took it away!"

"But you could still smell last time," Sam protested, remembering the Mystery Spot. "You could do everything like normal. Can you use your other form here?"

Alex searched for the tug that would let her and shook her head, feeling her breath hitch anxiously. She was the closest she could get to human here. "How do you fool someone to this extent?" she breathed. "Sam, come here." He did just that, standing in front of her as they ignored Dean while he ranted about the TV show he supposedly didn't like. She shoved at Sam as hard as she could just to test her strength, and was horrified when he barely stumbled back a few steps.

"I'm," she growled, relieved that the sound left her throat, "going to murder him."

"You're gonna have to get in line," Dean told her promptly and then suddenly gasped, grabbing Sam's arm. Sam looked at him with exasperation. "It's him," he breathed. "Sam, it's Dr. Sexy."

The doctor stopped before them, eyeing the half-dressed Alex curiously. Alex narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Why would someone approach them in the middle of a half-empty corridor? "Doctor," he greeted. He didn't spare Sam a look as he stared down Dean and demanded, "You want to give me a good reason as to why you defied my direct order to do the experimental face transplant on Mrs. Biehl?"

Dean's expression shifted. He flicked a glance to Sam, who was watching the doctor closely. "One reason?" he asked, watching as his brother flicked his gaze downwards. Dean followed his gaze. A smirk encompassed his face. "Sure." Without hesitation, he slammed the doctor into a wall, arm pressed against his throat. "You're not Dr. Sexy."

Alex growled low in her throat as the doctor cried out, prying at his arm, "You're crazy," he gasped.

"Really?" Dean seethed, scowling viciously. "Because I swore part of what makes Dr. Sexy sexy is the fact that he wears cowboy boots. Not tennis shoes."

"Yeah," Sam muttered to Alex, who snorted. "He's definitely not a fan."

"Go ahead," Alex crooned, her blue eyes narrowed, "call...security, or whatever you think would work. But we know who you are."

Just like that, everything around them froze. They watched as the man's face morphed into that of the Trickster, and he wore the broadest of grins as he cheered, "You guys are getting better!"

"Get us the hell out of here," Dean gritted out, pressing firmly on his throat. "Now."

"Or what?" the Trickster challenged. With ease, he suddenly spun out of Dean's grasp, grabbing his arm and twisting it sharply. Dean grunted, nearly hitting the ground in an attempt to lessen the pressure on his elbow. "Don't say you have wooden stakes, big guy. I took them."

"That was you on the police scanner, right?" Sam said suddenly and Alex groaned in utter annoyance at the fact that they'd fallen for something so useless.

"Hello?" the Trickster said with a smirk, waving to himself. "Trickster. Come on! I heard you three yahoos were in town...how could I resist?"

Alex bared her teeth at him. "Where the bloody hell are we?"

"Like it?" he said, beaming at her. He rapped on the window in the wall beside Dean's head. "It's all home-made. My own sets...my own actors...call it my own little idiot box."

"How do we get out?" Dean gritted out, glaring over his shoulder at him. He wanted nothing more than to stake the bastard in the heart - again. He'd thought they were over this. Hadn't they killed him several times by this point? How was he even _alive_?

"That, my friend," the Trickster purred, "is the sixty-four-dollar question."

"Whatever," Alex scoffed, moving on. She moved closer, glaring at the Trickster until he released Dean and turned to face her entirely, smirking down at her. He wiggled his eyebrows; she spat at his face.

He didn't look pleased as he swiped her saliva away, grinning. He wagged his finger almost playfully. "Alex, Alex, _Alex_ , don't forget. You're in my world now, which means you play by my rules. So, I think, for that…" He snapped his fingers. In an instant, the skinwalker was clutching her shoulder with a loud yelp. Sam immediately stepped closer, touching her back gently as he demanded to know what the Trickster had done. "We can't have a patient hanging around that's not sick or injured, now can we?"

"Look," Sam said desperately, looking up at him. "We just need to talk to you. Please. We need your help. Just five minutes. Hear us out."

The Trickster studied him closely, brown eyes narrowing as he did so. Finally, he grinned. "Sure," he finally said, much to all of their surprise. "Tell you what, survive the next twenty-four hours and then we'll talk." He threw his arms out. "Play the game, follow the rules, we'll see how it goes." And then he was gone, disappearing like a TV that had shown a split second of static before turning off.

"Son of a bitch," Dean seethed, watching as the world around them unfroze. A nurse went by, calling for "Dr. Sexy."

"You good?" Sam said, frowning at Alex.

"Do I look good?" she snarled, snapping her jaws. She held her arm awkwardly. "Bloody arse...dislocated my bloody shoulder."

Dean looked as pleased as she did as the trio started down the hall after a doctor that went by, lowering his voice to hiss, "By the way, Sam. Talking with monsters? Hell of a plan. Now we're stuck here. But you know what? I'm finding a way out of here."

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but focused instead on a woman approaching them. Dr. Piccolo, Dean told him, and he recognized her as the one who'd slapped him earlier. So when she swung at him again, he immediately yanked out of the way. "Lady!" he exploded and despite the grouchiness, Alex cracked a grin. "What the hell!?"

She was heaving for air in her rage. "You are a brilliant, brilliant-"

"Yeah," Sam said, rolling his eyes and throwing a glare over his shoulder when Dean snickered. "A coward. You already said that. But I got news for you...I'm not a doctor."

"Is that…" Alex tipped her head back, horror filling her face when she realized that she could hear music playing. She leaned in towards Dean, whispering, "There's music. That's real bloody music, like in some kind of soap opera."

"Don't say that," Dr. Piccolo, her eyes filling with tears as she looked up at Sam, said. "You are the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met, and I've met plenty. So that girl died on your table - it wasn't your fault! It wasn't anybody's...sometimes, people just die."

Sam said blankly, "I have no idea what you're saying to me."

"You're afraid," she breathed. "You're afraid to operate again. You're afraid to love." A sob left her mouth and she turned away, leaving with her face buried in her hands.

Sam watched after her with shock written across his face, and then he turned slowly to face the other two. "Yeah," he snapped. "We're getting out of here. Alex, want me to fix that shoulder?"

"Please," she gritted out, turning so that he could do so. He counted down from three, shoving everything back into place before he got to zero, and Alex grunted in pain when he did so, but said nothing about it other than a word of gratitude when she saw a man approaching them, this time with his eyes on Dean. "Bloody hell, here we go."

Dean blinked, followed her gaze, and sighed as the man stopped before them, looking at him beseechingly. "Doctor, my wife needs that face transplant."

"Okay," Dean said with a rather sharp look on his face, done with all of this. "You know what, pal? None of this is real, and your wife doesn't need jack squat. Okay?" He grabbed Alex by the uninjured shoulder and pushed her forward when she opened her mouth, and Sam followed.

"Dean-" Alex protested, not agreeing with his actions. This was the Trickster's world, and if they didn't follow the rules-

"Hey," the man called after them, and then there was a gunshot. Alex shrieked and Sam jolted when Dean hit the ground on his knees, swearing loudly as pain ran violently through his back.

"Real," he said faintly. "It's...it's definitely - _shit_."

Sam looked horrified as he stared at his brother, his gaze wide, and Alex lifted her head and shouted when he said nothing, "Hey! We need some help over here! Someone's been shot!" She met Sam's gaze, her own flared with anxiety. "We have to follow his rules," she reminded him, and Sam wordlessly agreed.

This was like Tuesday all over again.

* * *

Sam ended up doing the surgery, and the pair had to leave Alex behind in the hallways of the hospital. She'd promised to do some investigating, see if she could find some explanations or even clues as to what they should do next. Sam had seen the worry in her eyes, and had promised he'd do his best to figure out what to do regarding his brother. Not that he had much of a choice. Sam had no idea how to use any of the surgical replies and ended up just asking for what he'd use on a normal case, succeeding after that, and when he'd finished, he grinned briefly. For some reason, Dean hadn't been put under - neither could explain why - and the eldest Winchester demanded irritably, not at all happy, "We okay?"

"Yep," Sam said with a groan of relief. "You'll be fine." He looked up and then grimaced when he saw the woman from earlier, Dr. Piccolo, smiling at him broadly through a window, her eyes full of adoration. "We just need to-"

* * *

"Let's play _Nutcracker_!"

Between one moment and the next, Sam and Dean found themselves no longer in a hospital, but upon some sort of stage with their feet stuck to a platform with a bar attached. At the end of the bar resided a metal ball and Sam exchanged a wary look with his brother. "What the hell?" Dean muttered to himself, immediately looking around to see where Alex might be.

He found her with an almost relieved look, right up front in the audience. She wouldn't have such a big part in whatever was going on right here, and she was more than happy with that. She didn't cheer and applaud along with the rest of the crowd as a symbol in Japanese writing appeared on a screen behind the Winchesters, and they both turned to look when the announcer spoke in the language neither understood to his crowd. He turned to Sam, and then said, "Sam Winchester," before launching into another round of speech.

Sam blinked. "What?" he muttered as the host announced a countdown. He snapped his head around to Dean. "What am I supposed to say?"

Dean made a wild gesture with his hands. "You think I know?"

"I've got nothing!" Sam heard Alex call faintly over the excited whispering of the crowd.

With hesitation, Sam turned to the host. "I...I don't speak Japanese." The host responded, repeating what he'd said before. With a desperate look, Sam looked back at Dean, and then around. Before he could speak again, however, a countdown behind them turned to zero and was followed by a loud buzzer.

The host said something before announcing, "Ruby!" A name they all recognized. Sam looked even more confused when the host said in English, "I'm sorry, Sam Winchester." He grinned, making a mockery out of hiding some laughter. Sam looked scared as he turned to his older brother for help a final time.

And then the metal pole on the platform flew up and slammed into Sam's crotch. Dean lifted a hand to his mouth in horror as Sam doubled over with a grunt of pain. From where she sat in the audience, Alex gasped. "Sam?" Dean said faintly as the host announced something about a nutcracker before launching into an advertisement. "You okay?"

Sam looked up at him with a scowl, and reluctantly straightened, not looking the least bit happy about what had happened. Before he could say something, there was a light that began flashing. "Oh, now what?" Sam moaned.

His irritation vanished when a set of doors flew open and revealed Castiel, who strode through them with narrowed eyes. Alex was up on the stage in an instant, ignoring the outrage from the staff around them. She stood near Dean, eyeing the platform he was on as Sam rasped, "Is this another trick?"

"It's me," Castiel confirmed. His gaze flicked between the three of them. "Uh...what are you doing here? You've been missing for days." He looked around briefly and then reached forward to touch Alex's forehead alongside Dean's, intending to fetch Sam last. "Let's-"

And then he was gone, vanishing in a burst of static.

"Cas?" Alex said in a small voice, looking horrified.

"No, no, no," the host said, coming into view from where he'd been standing off to the side. He clicked his tongue. Now, he spoke in English, looking bothered by the appearance of the angel. "Mr. Trickster does not like pretty-boy angels. Please return to your seat." This was thrown at Alex, who reluctantly retreated, not seeing anything better to do with herself.

The host suddenly pulled another card out of his pocket, reading off of it and addressing Dean in Japanese. When he was done, he said cheerfully, "Countdown!"

As the screen began to tick back from twenty, Dean threw a panicked look at his brother. "What do I do?" he cried. "What do I do? I don't wanna get hit in the nuts!"

It was Alex's shout of "Go along with it!" from the crowd that had Sam understanding. "What she said," he said hastily, glancing at the countdown. "I played a doctor in, uh, _Dr. Sexy_. I operated. So I played the role the Trickster wanted me to play. Alex is right. We need to go along with it. We're on a came show, right? Just answer the question!"

"I don't know Japanese, Sam!" Dean snapped.

"Just try, you bloody moron!" Alex shouted.

"Damn it," Dean seethed. He slammed his hand on the button before him, glaring at it with a passion. When he spoke next, he looked startled by the fact that he was speaking in Japanese. The host repeated his last few words and Dean did the same.

It was to the relief of all three hunters that the host cried, "Dean Winchester, _Nutcracker_ champion!"

"So that's it," Sam said, grimacing at the fact that they'd not figured this out sooner and saved him the pain that still radiated through his body. "We play our roles, we survive."

Dean, scowling, forced himself to smile and grin at the crowd.

* * *

After a rather exciting run through of a commercial for genital herpes, in which Alex and Sam wanted to both just stake the Trickster and be done with everything, Dean found himself striding into a very clearly fake house, swearing, "Son of a _bitch_."

A laugh track filled the air and he bit back another swear. They'd only laugh at that, too.

Sam stood in the house before him, his jaw working furiously as he realized that they were within a sitcom of all things. Lying beneath the table was Alex, who was glaring viciously at both of them from her canine-form's face. The set was ridiculous looking, and Dean finally said weakly, "How long do we have to keep doing this?"

"I don't know," Sam huffed, "but we need to be done with it soon."

Alex woofed her agreement, earning more laughter, and Dean muttered, "We're gonna die here." When a third round of laughing filled their ears he glared at the darkness in which he assumed there was an audience and earned more laughs by snarling, "How was that funny? Vultures."

The door suddenly opened behind him, and Alex rocketed out from underneath the table when Castiel stepped through, his lip split open and a few cuts and bruises on his face. Dean looked startled as applause filled the air. "You okay?"

"I don't have much time," he said stiffly. "Listen to me. Something is not right. This thing is much more powerful than it should be."

"What thing...the Trickster?" Sam questioned.

Castiel inclined his head. "If it is a trickster." Sam went to ask what he meant, but they angel found himself flung back into a wall, and they all jumped in shock at the sight. Alex lifted her voice in a growl when the door opened and the Trickster appeared, beaming as he greeted them all with a loud "Hello!" that earned applause. "

Alex's mind went into overdrive. Her blue eyes narrowed as she ran over what could possibly overpower an angel in such a way-

"Hi, Castiel!" the Trickster greeted, only furthering Alex's curiosity and thinking. He _knew_ who Castiel was. "And...bye!" He gestured and Castiel disappeared once more in a burst of static.

Sam looked surprised as he looked over the smirking Trickster, suspicious. "You know him?"

"Where did you just send him?" Dean demanded aggressively, furious.

"Relax, he'll live. Maybe." The Trickster grinned when a laugh track went off. Alex curled a lip, wanting nothing more than to tear out the Trickster's throat for all of this. He was wasting their time! Twenty-four hours, he'd said, but Castiel had said they'd been gone for _days_.

"Alright, you know what?" Dean snarled suddenly, taking a step towards the Trickster. Alex yipped a warning; any closer, and the Trickster was likely to react in an aggressive manner or disappear all together. "I'm _done_ with the monkey dance, okay? We get it." The Trickster arched a brow as if to ask, _Get what?_ "Playing our roles, right? That's your game."

"That's half the game."

"What's the other half?" Sam gritted out, looking as agitated as his brother.

"Play your roles out there." The Trickster's eyes glimmered with brutal amusement as he gestured to nothing in particular, and Alex growled lowly as she caught onto what he was saying. "Sam starring as Lucifer. Dean starring as Michael. Your celebrity deathmatch. Oh, and Alex starring as the Soldier, of course." This was thrown at Alex, who was still growling at him.

"You want us to say _yes_ to those sons of bitches?" Sam said quietly, narrowing his eyes.

"Hells yeah," the Trickster cheered. "Let's light this candle!" When Sam pointed out that doing that would result in the end of the world, the Trickster shrugged, not the least bit bothered by the idea. "And whose fault is that? Who popped Lucifer out of the box? Look, it's started. _You_ started it. It can't be stopped...so let's get it over with!"

"Heaven or Hell," Dean said with narrowed eyes, suspicion creeping into his eyes. "Which side are you on? You grabbing ankle for Michael or Lucifer? Which one?"

"You listen to me, you arrogant dick," the Trickster suddenly snarled, taking on an entirely different attitude that made them all agree that Castiel had been right to suggest he wasn't a trickster. "I don't work for either of those bastards. Believe me."

Alex glared defiantly at him, even as Dean drawled just to piss him off even more, "Oh, you're somebody's bitch."

The Trickster's jaw worked furiously as he suddenly got in Dean's face, eyes flickering with malice. "Don't ever," he snarled at Dean, "presume to know what I am. Now listen very closely, Dean, because here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play the roles that destiny has chosen for you. And if you don't, you'll stay here in this TV land forever. Three hundred channels...and nothing's on." He suddenly grinned.

And then snapped his fingers.

* * *

"Oh, come on," Dean moaned when he realized that he was standing beside his brother just outside an area that had been taped off by crime-scene tape. He glared at all of the people hard at work on the forensic portion of everything, and then looked down at the suit he wore - and the sunglasses in his hand. Honestly, it was night. Why did they have those?

"So," a police officer said, addressing them from where he stood nearby, "what do you think?"

"What do I think?" Dean spat, scowling at him, "I think you can go screw yourself."

" _Dean_ ," Sam said in exasperation. Politely to the officer, he said, "Give us a sec, please. Thanks." The officer shrugged and turned away and when he did, Sam said with exaggerated patience, "You gotta calm down, Dean."

"Calm down?" Dean said sharply. "I hate this game. I hate that we're in a procedural cop show, and you wanna know why? Because I hate procedural cop shows. There's like three hundred of them on TV, and they're all the freaking same - and where the _hell_ is Alex?"

"Right here," a grumbling skinwalker muttered as she slid from behind a car, wearing clothes that were similar to what she normally wore. The only change was that her hands were cuffed together and her knuckles had smudges of blood on them. "Bloody hell, apparently I'm a suspect."

Dean, despite all of the complaints from before, snickered, earning a sharp kick to the shins before she tried to break the cuffs in half to at least separate them. But she had no long and she hissed softly when they burned almost warningly. "Great," she snarled under her breath. "I can't even get them apart or he'll make me burst into flames or something." She pathetically let Sam give it a try, but he didn't have anything to actually free her wrists.

"In any case," Sam sighed with a roll of his eyes, looking annoyed that they couldn't free the skinwalker's wrists. He gestured to someone, who was comfortably working and sucking on a lollipop. "Check out the sweet tooth over there."

"That's him," Alex rumbled irritably at the same time that Dean asked, "Think that's him?"

"Just...follow my lead," Sam decided. They looked at him with confusion, unable to figure out what he was doing until he started for the crime scene. "Stay where you are, Alex, or find a place to hide out," he added over his shoulder. She scowled, furious she couldn't't tag along.

Groaning, Dean trailed after him, putting the sunglasses on his face with a scowl. Alex watched after them, shifting her weight anxiously as she watched Dean finally kneel beside the body upon reaching it, sliding behind a cop car as a cop came a little too close for comfort. She listened in silence, trying to find something.

And, then, she noticed an officer - not the man who'd been noticed by Sam - smirking at the pair's backs. A low growl rumbled deep in Alex's throat. Cheater, she thought, eyes raking the area for a stick that might work. She snatched one up with haste upon finding it, not hesitating to shove the sharpened tip into her palm.

Her mentor and everyone else had not once told her that the blood needed had to come from a dead victim.

She barely took notice as Sam distracted the man they thought was the Trickster, allowing Dean to find a stick and slowly come around behind him. She only stalked through the extras, suspicious when none of them seemed to take notice of her. He _knew_ she was there. Bastard. He was setting this up. For whatever reason, he wanted this game to end.

But as she lifted the stick up, she smirked. _Nice try, Trickster_.

When the stick Dean held plunged into the man's chest, the officer she stood behind burst into laughter, morphing into the Trickster. "You got the wrong guy, idiots!" He cackled as they spun around looking surprised, only for triumph to spring into their eyes.

"Did we?" Alex crooned and slammed the stick home. There was a brief moment in which everything froze. And then the world around them vanished with a burst of static, leaving them standing in the mill they'd entered with the Trickster face-down, supposedly dead.

Alex drew back, planting her hands on her hips as she scolded the shocked Winchesters, "Idiots. Bloody useless, you are. Pay attention next time, would you?"

Dean grinned and shook his head. "I knew there was a reason we didn't kill you."

Alex flipped him off, but wore a slight hint of a smile.

* * *

The next morning found them preparing to leave, ready to get out of town now that the Trickster had been dealt with. Alex felt off, like they'd missed something as she shoved her duffel bag full, listening to Sam pack behind her while Dean brushed his teeth in the bathroom. She heard Sam head out to put his bag in the trunk, not bothering to throw a warning to either of them. He knew Alex would know where he was.

"I'm worried," Dean said as he came out, brow furrowed anxiously. "What that son of a bitch did to Cas…" He paused when he realized only Alex was there.

Alex glanced up, cocking her head a little so that it was inclined towards the door. "Sam went out to put his bag in the trunk, I think."

"Got it. But seriously, where the hell is Cas?" Dean went to put his things away, all ready packed for the most part. He shouldered the bag after making sure that he had everything, pausing to wait for Alex as she did the same. When she was done, they left the room, Dean leaving the key in the door since they didn't need it anymore.

He narrowed his eyes in confusion and Alex blinked when she realized that Sam was nowhere to be found. He looked over at Alex, and Alex returned the confused look as he demanded, "Where the hell did _Sam_ go?"

"I don't know," she admitted, searching her pockets for her phone. "Here, throw my bag in the trunk, I'll call him." Dean took her bag and she did just that, lifting her phone to her ear and turning away as Dean propped the trunk open. When Sam didn't answer, his voicemail told her to leave a message, but she only hung up and climbed into the passenger seat, shrugging. "Not picking up," she said as Dean swung into the driver side. "Maybe we should just wait? He might have run to the bathroom or something. Or to a vending machine. I mean, there's a gas station next door."

"I guess," Dean grumbled, groaning in annoyance. "Could have said something though."

"Dean? Alex?" They both paused, confused, and Alex swung around to look in the backseat at the sound of Sam's voice, noting that it was odd. He wasn't in the car, so where-

"Sam?" Dean said aloud in response, blinking. "Where are you?"

"I don't know," Sam admitted. Alex caught sight of a light that usually wasn't there on the radio, and her eyes widened when it flashed in time with Sam's statement. Dean stared at the light, too. After a moment, Sam said quietly, "I don't think we killed the Trickster."

* * *

"This is something else," Alex growled as Dean drove down an interstate, furious that his car had been screwed with. They'd been driving for only an hour or two, trying to figure out what was going on. "This is something completely else and I'm going to kill the bloody arse for this."

"Tried that," Dean reminded her. "Stake didn't work. So what is this? Another trick?"

"I don't know," Sam said grouchily from wherever he was, his voice filling the Impala and making Alex shift with discomfort. She didn't like not being able to see him when he was nearby and speaking. It was...wrong. "Maybe it didn't work because it's not a trickster?"

Alex perked up and stared at the radio. "Cas," she breathed, narrowing her blue eyes as she thought it over. "Cas said it was too powerful to be a trickster. And did you see the way he looked at Cas? It was like he knew him, guys."

"He was pissed when we brought up Michael and Lucifer," Sam added in.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath, looking excited. "Son of a bitch," he said, pulling over on the side of the road. Alex had the feeling that Sam was as confused as she was about what he was so excited about. He grinned, surprising Alex when he turned the broad smile on her. "I know what we're dealing with."

"Are you going to explain?" Sam asked as Dean jumped out of the car. Alex followed suit, scrambling to catch up as he bolted for the trunk, quickly opening it. He shuffled through it, fumbling for different things. "Dean? Guys? Seriously, that feels really uncomfortable."

"Oh, gross, Sam," Alex mutterd and Dean looked inclined to agree as he slammed the trunk shut. Sam protested in pain. "Dean," she said, looking to him as he grabbed something he'd placed on the ground. "What are you - _oh_."

Dean waved the holy oil in the air triumphantly. "Yeah," he said.

And quite suddenly, everything made sense. Alex wrinkled her nose in distaste as Sam raised his voice, demanding to know what they were dealing with. "Bloody hell," she grumbled, "I flirted with an _angel_. Ugh."

"Aren't you a skinwalker?" Dean pointed out, and Sam fell silent as Dean went to work, pouring a massive circle on the leaves nearby and then another on the road to ensure that things went the way they wanted them to. He tossed a lighter to Alex, who tucked it away, hidden. "Ready?" he asked after putting the holy oil in the back of the car.

"Yeah," she agreed, nodding curtly. "Sam?"

"Yeah, I think so. You sure this is gonna work?"

"We'll make it work," Alex promised and then shifted back on her heels as beside her, Dean lifted his chin to study the clouds above them and shouted for the Trickster to come for them, because they were crying uncle. They'd do it.

"Should I honk?" Sam offered with a hint of amusement when nothing happened.

"Wow, Sam," a familiar voice drawled behind them and they spun around. Alex felt a flicker of excitement when she saw the Trickster - the angel, she corrected herself - standing amongst the leaves in which Dean had encircled with holy oil. His dark eyes were glittering as he smirked at them all. "Get a load of the rims on you. And _Alex_ ," he continued, smirking as he raked his gaze over her. "As lovely as ever."

She growled at him, baring her teeth. "Bite me, you twit."

"Ooh, I'd love to, but we have work to do." He winked and Alex rolled her eyes. The nameless angel clasped his hands together behind him, leaning forward. "Okay, ready to go quietly?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean said suddenly, cutting him off with a hint of a smile. "Nobody's going anywhere until Sam has opposable thumbs." Alex nodded in agreement, and the angel rolled his eyes but snapped his fingers.

"I don't know what the difference is," he told them as Sam climbed out of the Impala, looking much happier. "Satan's going to ride his ass on way or another."

"Leave him alone," Alex warned, and then shifted her weight, propping a hand on her hip so that her fingers slid into her pocket, ready to grab the lighter. "Tell us...why didn't my stick kill you?"

"I _am_ the Trickster," he pointed out, waving to himself.

"Or maybe," Dean said with a pointed look at Alex, who snapped the lighter out and threw the lit device onto the circle, "you're not." He looked the least bit bothered as a ring of flammes sprang to life around the startled supernatural creature. They watched him as his jaw worked furiously. "Maybe you've always been an angel."

The angel blinked, and then burst out laughing. "A _what_? Somebody's slip a drug in your power shake, kid?" When neither moved, Dean saying that if he could jump out of the holy fire they'd call it their mistake, he lost his humor and scowled, snapping his fingers. The forest around them disappeared, turning into the mill that they'd been in only hours before. He clapped slowly, not looking too happy. "Well played. Where'd you get the holy oil? Or better yet: where'd I screw up?"

Sam leveled him with a grouchy look. "You didn't. Nobody gets the jump on Cas like you did."

"Mostly," Alex chimed in with a hum, "it was how you talked about the Apocalypse."

"Call it personal experience, but nobody gets that angry unless they're talking about their own family," Dean added with a small gesture between he and Sam. "So tell us. Which one are you? Grumpy, Sneezy, Douchey?"

"Gabriel, okay?" he spat in response, scowling. He glared viciously at them, looking as if he'd want nothing better than to incinerate them all, and Alex stiffened as he repeated, "They call me Gabriel."

"Bloody hell," she whispered, eyes wide. "The archangel? But how does an archangel become a trickster?"

Gabriel smirked bitterly at her. "The one and only," he told her in response to her first question. Finally, he answered the second, shifting his weight and glaring at the flames around him. "My own private witness protection. I skipped out of Heaven, had a face transplant, carved out my own little corner of the world. Until you three screwed it all up."

"What did Daddy say when you ran off and joined the pagans?" Dean questioned, honestly wondering if Gabriel had seen God.

"Daddy didn't say anything about anything," Gabriel snapped. "Still doesn't." When Sam and Dean turned to debate with each other mockingly about why he'd ditched Heaven, snidely making comments about his brothers, Gabriel's face darkened with rage. "You don't know anything about my family. I love my father and my brothers. Love them. But watching them _turn_ on each other? Tear at each other's throats? I couldn't bear it! So I left, and now it's happening all over again."

Alex found herself softening a little. Sure, Gabriel was a twat, but...she could see his reason for hiding. The murdering had no excuse, but leaving behind a family to avoid watching them tear each other apart… "Then help us stop them from doing so," she said quietly.

"It can't be stopped."

"You wanna see the end of the world?" Dean challenged.

"I want it to be over!" Gabriel cried in response, throwing his hands up. "I have to sit back and watch my own brothers kill each other thanks to you three! Heaven, Hell, I don't care who wins. I just want it to be over."

"It doesn't have to be like that," Alex said, shaking her head. "Surely there's something we can to stop it."

Gabriel burst out laughing again, sneering at her after he'd managed to catch his breath, "You don't know them. My family...what you call the apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner. There's no stopping this because this? This isn't about a war. It's about two brothers that loved and betrayed each other. You two should be able to relate," he added, waving at Sam and Dean, who looked somewhat offended. "You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are vessels? Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of Daddy's plan. You were born to this, just like Alex was born to ensure that it happens. It's your destiny! It was always you! As it is in Heaven, so must it be on Earth. One brother has to kill the other, with us in the middle to declare the winner." He waved between himself and Alex, who looked horrified.

"Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you?" Gabriel continued as they all fell silent, unable to think straight after all of this. "Because from the moment Dad flipped the lights on around here, we knew it was all gonna end with _you_."

Sam and Dean exchanged a long look, and after a moment, Dean's gaze flicked to Alex, who met it evenly, her eyes blazing with anger. And then he shook his head. "No," he told Gabriel. "That's not gonna happen. So here's what's gonna happen. You bring Cas back from where you stashed him."

Gabriel looked inclined to stick his tongue out at Dean. "Oh, _am_ I?"

"Yeah, or we're going to dunk you in some holy oil and deep-fry ourselves an archangel," Dean said coldly. Gabriel studied them for a long moment before rolling his eyes. With a snap of his fingers, Castiel appeared beside the trio of hunters.

"Cas?" Alex asked, touching the surprisingly calm angel's arm. He glanced at her. "You good?"

"I'm fine," he promised, and then turned his face to his brother. "Hello, Gabriel."

"Hey, bro," Gabriel snickered, folding his arms. "How's the search for Daddy going? Let me guess...awful."

"Okay," Dean said cheerfully. "That's it, we're out of here. Come on, you two." He turned and started walking for the Impala. Sam went after him, still looking ready to be done with everything after being a car for a few hours, and Alex faltered, glancing back at Gabriel before going to follow them.

"Wait a second," Gabriel said, narrowing his eyes angrily when Castiel, too, turned to go with them. "You're just going to leave me here forever?"

Dean stopped at the door and turned back, shaking his head. "No, we're not," He told him. "'Cause we don't screw with people like you do. And for the record? This isn't about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can't be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family." He reached out and without hesitation, pulled the fire alarm, sprinklers coming to life above them. "Don't say I never do anything for you," he shouted over his shoulder before ducking out with the others.

Alex paused in the doorway to look back at Gabriel, her gaze meeting his warily as she recalled what he'd said, that they were, in some strange way, in the same position. He smirked at her, as if he knew something she didn't.

It was only Castiel gently pushing her forward that stopped her from going back and questioning him.

* * *

 _Gabriel! Love him. Next up we have an original chapter! I've been super excited for this upcoming one. It's something I've been planning for a while and we're gonna see a major turn in the Dean and Alex relationship. ;)_

 _Thanks to reviewers (Trench gun and BlueBloodsSVUOrder (for your review on Chapter 34)) as well as those who favorited and followed!. You are all greatly appreciated!_


	38. Send Me Back

"What do you think?" Alex said, mouth full of burger as she shoved the newspaper at Sam with her other hand cradling her burger. "Think it's suspicious enough? I mean, it could be just a weird human who decided murder was the way to go…" She swallowed and then sat back as Sam, fork halfway to his mouth with a bite of lettuce. "I think we should look into it. Too many women for us not to it."

Sam eyed the newspaper, ignoring her ramblings as he studied the front page. Distantly, he could hear Dean thanking the bartender for their drinks - and for letting them bring their lunch inside, as it was pouring outside. "I think," he said slowly, "you're implying something stupid, because they were all blonde women with blue eyes."

Alex wiggled her eyebrows, aware that it looked strange with the way it tugged at her scars. "I think," she rumbled, "you're entirely right. I bet you a hundred American dollars, Sam Winchester, that if this thing took me, I could kick its arse and be done by noon."

Sam's lips quirked as he took a bite of salad. When he was done chewing, he noted his brother coming back over and said simply, "I don't doubt it, Alex, but I still say it's stupid."

"What's stupid?" Dean demanded, placing beers in front of his brother and Alex before sipping at his own as he slid into his own seat across from the skinwalker. He kicked her under the table just to piss her off, and she growled irritably when she dropped a fry.

"Alex thinks," Sam said, pushing the paper over to him, "that she could do this entirely on her own."

Dean eyed the paper's headline, noting the common description of the women who'd been victims. "I think you're a dumbass," he said bluntly. "You can't even bend your third finger at the second knuckle, woman."

She showed him said finger with a scowl as she kicked him beneath the table. "I could flip you over my shoulder without bending a knuckle, Winchester."

"Still, stupid," Sam agreed, and she glared at both of them with a pout before shrugging and moving on from her annoyance. Sam had agreed, she knew, but they all knew better. She was too used to having someone to back her up at this point. She rarely needed to look over her shoulder when they were with her, and it somewhat annoyed her that she even failed to remind herself to do so.

"So what are we doing?" Alex asked, chomping down on a fry. "Should we go interrogate the families? Or search the crime scenes?"

"Why don't you and Dean go check out the crime scenes?" Sam suggested. "At least the more recent one. I'll go interrogate the police and the families, and we can meet at the motel by six this evening?" He contemplated switching places with Dean, but didn't dare to send his brother, who was still full of attitude after their encounter with Gabriel, to deal with grieving families, and Alex could be more useful at the crime scene.

Alex nodded slowly to herself, mulling over the crime scenes she'd need to check out. "I'll see what I can find scent-wise," she promised, biting the inside of her cheek.

Dean pouted a little. "Why do I have to go with Alex?"

"Because," Alex said calmly as she reached for her drink, smirking at him, "you've been a twat recently, and I don't know about the families Sam's going to see, but I didn't have the willpower to deal with it when Matt died, so...you're with me."

Sam exchanged a surprised look with Dean as Alex focused back onto her dinner. It was the first time Alex had so casually referred to her brother's death, without looking miserable or angry or anything else along with it. It wasn't a bad thing, he supposed, but it was surprising. Clearing his throat a little to catch their attention, Sam said, "We'll need to stop by the room so I can get changed, and then you'll have to drop me off."

"Easy enough. You'll have to figure out how to get from victim to victim though," Alex mused, biting her lip thoughtfully. "You can't just walk there. We're in South Dakota; kind of a wide area."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm aware, Alex." Western South Dakota was just as spread out as the eastern half, where Bobby lived. Just more hilly. "You can just drop me off with the local police and I'll have them bring the families to me."

"Smart." Alex finished up her burger, cramming it into her mouth and then energetically bounced to her feet. "Can we get moving?" she asked hopefully. "I want to kill something."

"Say that louder," Dean drawled sarcastically, "I don't think nearly enough people heard you, Alex." She growled at him, looking ready to kick him if she could reach him, but he ignored the look, instead grabbing what was left of his burger to eat on the go. "C'mon, Sam. Sooner we get started, sooner we can be done."

"Why do you want to be done already?" Sam asked, but willingly got to his feet, bringing his drink and fries with him. They tossed away their trash and then started for the door, Sam and Dean still eating as they did so.

"'Cause I've got a feeling that this case is gonna be a pain in our ass," was Dean's response.

* * *

"Alex," Dean hissed as the skinwalker ducked out of the Impala as soon as they'd arrived on the third scene. "Get back here!"

She waved him off, tapping her nose as she sidled towards the empty trailer, her eyes searching the area curiously. "No one's here," she called back. "We're in the middle of nowhere, the woman had no family, and the police have moved on for now. We're safe, Winchester. I don't smell anyone."

"I swear to God," Dean grumbled as he followed her towards the trailer, stopping to let her check the front door. She scowled when she found it locked. He rolled his eyes and nudged her away. "Go take a look around back, would you? Should have the lock picked by the time you're done."

"On it." Alex raked a hand through her hair and then sauntered off. Dean arched a brow as she went, looking somewhat amused with her surprisingly happy mood. _The hell's up with her?_ he wondered. It had been a long time since she'd been so happy. This might have been the best mood he'd ever seen her in, even.

Shrugging, he went to work and just as planned, he had the lock picked when she came around the other side. Dean looked to her expectantly. Alex shook her head. Nothing. So, the pair went inside. Alex immediately went to work on sniffing out what the creature could have been as Dean quickly looked around the dining room and kitchen, searching for signs of break ins.

"Dean," Alex called suddenly. "In here."

He blinked and then ducked into the livingroom. She was pointing to a ripped screen and now closed and locked window. "I'm assuming it got in here," she said. "Mostly because of the ripped screen mixed with the horrible reek of death."

"'Reek of death,'" he quoted with a smirk, and she shrugged.

"Don't have anything else to describe it," Alex answered and lowered her face near the windowsill. She breathed in deeply, searching through various scents to try and figure out what it might be that was kidnapping the various women. "I've got nothing," she said after a few minutes. Her good eye lifted to meet Dean's gaze, thoughtful. "I can smell something, I know it's not normal. It smells of death and earth and rock, but is definitely not something I've hunted before," she reported, shifting back and rocking onto her heels with a frown. "I wish you two had good noses. I wonder if you've seen something I've not."

"Chupacabra?" he muttered, snickering, and she smirked to herself.

"I wish," she sighed. "We need to go south for those, though. What hides out up here in the northern areas? Do you think it could be a wendigo?"

"If it's a wendigo," Dean said darkly, "we're out of here. I'm done dealing with them."

"Why? What happened?"

"I got electrocuted and ended up condemning a girl to death by taking away the opportunity for her to be healed by a faith healer, who thought he was healing people," Dean answered, remembering that hunt from Sam's first year back. "Turned out to be a reaper under his wife's control. Still feel bad about that. She's long dead now."

"Poor girl," Alex said softly. Sympathy was clear in her face, but she shook off her thoughts and turned them on something more important. "So what have you dealt with up in these states that it might be?"

"You said wendigo, but there's a couple more things, I guess. We'll figure it out when we talk wit Sam this evening. He remembers things better."

They did a final look over of the crime scene before deciding there was nothing more they'd learn from this one. Alex led the way out of the small trailer, sauntering through the front door and then pausing to wait just beside him as he went to work on locking the door again with his lockpick. As she did so, her nostrils flared and she dragged in as many scents as she could from the area, seeking answers in the scents that danced on the air.

Dean was just straightening when Alex suddenly snapped her face towards the east, her gaze sharpening and a deep growl coming from somewhere deep in her chest. "Alex?" he demanded, puzzled.

"Something's watching us," she rumbled, not taking her eyes off of the trees. She searched them. "I don't know what it is or where, but I can feel it, and I smell death."

"Can you follow the scent?" he asked, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders as if preparing himself for a car ride. Trying to look normal, Alex noted, even as he was ready to reach for the demon knife he was holding.

"No, it's not central to one spot, it's just kind of drifting, which means its circling. Doesn't help that we're in South Dakota." She wrinkled her nose as a sharp breeze wafted over thm. "Come on, we'll come back with Sam and try hunting it down later. Good to know it comes back to the crime scenes."

Dean nodded and then sighed heavily when she hopefully held her hand out for the keys to the Impala. "One scratch," he threatened darkly as he placed the keys carefully in her waiting palm, "and I'm flaying you alive."

"Been there, done that," she drawled, making him sputter as she headed for the driver seat, twirling the keys around her finger as she went. He watched her for a moment, then sighed and followed her, ducking into the passenger seat as he went.

* * *

It took them under an hour to get back to the motel room, stopping half-way back to get something to eat, and when they did, Alex declared from the moment she stepped inside that Sam hadn't come back yet, which left them to do research by themselves until he did. Alex tapped her fingers on the table as she studied the newspaper articles spread out before her, her other hand wrapped around a cup as she sipped from her soda. She glanced up at Dean every now and then, as he sat at the other side of the table typing away on his lap top.

Finally, he caught her in the act and lifted a brow. "Why do you keep lookin' at me? It's annoying."

"I'm worried," she rumbled grouchily. "This hunt is starting to make me anxious."

"About _what_? It's a _hunt_ ," he groaned, leaning back and rolling his eyes in annoyance. "You've looked an archangel in the eye and pissed him off. You can deal with a hunt."

"Mm, but knowing what an archangel is doing is different than wondering who, what, where, and why," she pointed out, biting the inside of her cheek. "I know I was the one who picked it out and wanted even to deal with it by myself, but something's wrong. I'm telling you. This isn't a normal hunt."

"Nothing we do is a normal hunt. You'll be fine, don't be a wuss," he replied curtly, earning himself a sharp glare.

Alex fell silent, a little agitated that he wasn't taking her seriously. But, she gave up on trying to make him understand the way her gut was churning in fear, and instead muttered, "What time does Sam get here? Six?"

"Yep."

"Too long being alone with you, you arrogant twat," she said crossly, climbing to her feet as he gaped at her.

"Where the hell are you going?" Dean demanded, watching her with a puzzled expression.

"To the police station to join him. Partner in crime. Gimme your keys, please," she said, holding out her hands. "I can drive him back when we're done."

"No," Dean said, glaring at her. "You're not taking Baby anywhere without supervision."

"Come on," she groaned, frustrated when he stubbornly shook his head, refusing to trust her with the keys. "Don't be a bloody moron, you've let me drive her several times. Have I let her get scratched at all? Give me a chance. It's only on the way there that I'll be driving alone...Sam's coming back with me, remember? Please, Winchester? I'll make it up to you." This was said with a smirk, almost flirtatiously. "Any way you want."

Dean eyed her suspiciously, not entirely sure of what she really meant by the look or her words, but worked his jaw furiously as he thought it over. Finally, he reached for his keys. "I swear to God," he seethed, pressing the keys into her waiting palm. "If you so much as scratch her-"

"I won't," she said happily, beaming at him. "Thank you, Winchester!" She cradled the keys happily in her fingers. Her good blue eye glowed with a ridiculous amount of happiness for something as simple as being trusted with the Impala, and Dean felt an itch of worry.

Something was wrong, she'd told him.

"Hey," he called as she opened the door, preparing to leave. She paused, looking back with an arched brow as she waited for him to speak. "Be careful."

Alex let her lips curve into a smug little smirk. "Worried, Winchester?" she teased and then waved him off. "You told me it would be fine, Mr. I-Can't-Make-Up-My-Mind." But then she became serious, her face losing its smile. She searched his gaze closely. "I'll be careful," she promised, holding up the keys. "Mostly because of the car, but I'll make sure to keep an eye out for anything that goes bump in the night outside of myself. I'm not looking to be murdered or anything, if you haven't noticed."

He nodded and then returned his attention on the computer. But as the door closed her, he lifted his eyes again.

 _Something isn't right,_ he thought, and reached for his phone to text Sam.

* * *

Dean had been sitting alone in the motel room for nearly two and a half hours when his phone rang off. He answered immediately without looking at the caller ID. "Hello?" he muttered, his jaw working as he used his free hand to switch two pieces of paper around.

"I think," Sam said tightly into the phone, "that we have a problem, Dean."

Dean abandoned his research to sit back, frowning. "Meaning?"

"You know how you texted me telling me Alex was coming? She never showed up. So I had the cops do a quick search around town."

"And?" Dean questioned, all ready climbing to his feet and reaching for his jacket and shoes. He made sure his fake ID was in his back pocket and narrowed his eyes. "What's the point, Sam? You did a search around town and what?"

"They found the Impala about halfway here. Pulled over on the side of the road, driver side open. No sign of a struggle, the car's entirely fine, and not more than a hundred feet into the woods they found the body of the most recent victim. It's still there."

Dean swore under his breath, straightening. He ran his hand through his hair after awkwardly shrugging on his jacket awkwardly. "Right. Did you get my car?" Sam confirmed this. "Come pick me up and we'll take a look around the area. I'll catch you up on what we had from the crime scenes. It's not much, but maybe you can think of something we didn't."

"Already on my way, I'll be there in a few minutes."

Sam hung up after that and it was a long while of waiting just outside the motel for him that he actually showed up. Dean waved for him to stay in the car when he'd put the Impala in the park, swinging into the passenger seat. "Let's go," he muttered, jaw working furiously as he thought about what to do. "You find anything good from the families?" he asked as Sam did just that.

"Not really. The women were all like we originally thought. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Like Alex," he mused. He glanced at Dean as he pulled out of the motel parking lot, his brow furrowed worriedly. "You let her take the car on her own?"

"She was going to meet you. You were supposed to drive back," Dean groaned, not in the mood for this. "She said she caught a whiff of it at the crime scene. Must have been watching us while we were there...said it smelled of death and something she'd never hunted before."

"We're making lists after this hunt, in case something like this happens again," Sam said under his breath. "There's not many that would occupy northern cold spaces. Wendigo, maybe?"

"We talked about that. I don't think so if there's a body left behind," Dean said. He leaned back in the seat of his car, thinking as hard as he could about what it might be. "The body...did you see any markers on it?"

"I haven't seen it yet at all. I came to pick you up first," Sam admitted. "The police are actually working with us for once...they promised not to move it until we got there." He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his mind racing a thousand miles an hour. "Should we get Cas here?"

"Maybe, not yet. Who knows, maybe she found it, and is taking forever to get back." Dean stared harshly out the window, not believing his own words. Alex wouldn't have left his car out like that, with the keys in the ignition and the front door thrown wide open. He tapped his fingers impatiently on his arm, frustrated. The hell had she gone? And why the _hell_ was he as worried as he was?

Sam seemed to notice and tried to unsuccessfully hide his grin. "What's wrong, Dean? Worried?"

"Shut up," Dean muttered, and glared at his brother before turning his face towards the window. _Bastard._

* * *

"What do you think?" Sam asked, peering at the body with a lack of emotion that once again reminded them both that they'd seen far too much death in their lives. What kind of person got to the point that they weren't phased by a dead naked woman out in the woods?

Ignoring the cops doing work around them, searching for clues of their own, Dean cast careful glances around, trying to see if he could see or hear anything that would help them. Even smelling something would be pleasant, but there wasn't anything that he could smell. It pissed him off a little; they'd become quite reliant on Alex's sense of smell since she'd joined their team.

"I think," Dean said, lowering his voice, "that there's no blood."

Sam nodded, crouching beside him. He ran over a mental list of creatures they'd created throughout their lives, but came up blank for this case. "Supernatural creatures aren't usually picky like this," he muttered. "And look, there's not really a struggle and no bite marks. She knew what she was getting into? Gave herself up? But the families said they didn't meet anyone new recently, and the person broke in-"

"Hey! I found something!"

The Winchesters both looked up and Sam's face grew grim when he saw the blade being held up by one of the forensic team's members. Sam went to retrieve it, good with words and lying to those around them, and Dean remained by the body, studying it without touching it, pretending that he didn't see the blank blue eyes staring at the sky.

It was while he was studying the girl's arms that he noticed the scabbed wounds. He focused in on them, leaning in a little. Right along the crease of her elbows on both sides, he noted, and when he looked, there was a larger one in the jugular. "Sam," he said sharply, touching the side of his neck, glancing up as his brother came back. "I know what we're dealing with."

"Well, I've got the means to kill it," Sam said, holding up the evidence bag Alex's blade had been placed in. "What is it?"

"Djinn." Dean's jaw worked furiously as he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Djinns were the worst. He remembered his encounter with one closely, remembered how Sam had barely known him and could care less outside of the fact that he'd run off with their mother's silver. "I'd bet you my car that we're dealing with a djinn."

Sam looked just as excited about it as he did. "Damn it. Alex isn't gonna want to leave the illusions."

"No," Dean muttered, remembering his own dreams. "She's not."

* * *

When Alex came to, she shot to her feet with her heart racing a hundred miles an hour, panic coursing through her veins. Her blue eyes darted this way and that, desperately seeking clarification on where she was. But, after a moment of terror, she relaxed, seeing only trees around her. She took a shaken breath, her hands trembling as she ran a hand down her face. She paused, probing at the flesh around her eye, and then furrowed her brow in confusion when she noticed a lack of scars. "The bloody hell…?"

She shook her head. She'd worry about that later. She squinted at the trees, listening for the road she knew wasn't too far away. She remembered smelling death through the open window, slamming on the brakes. She remembered nearly flying out of the car with a snarl. A brief struggle, perhaps, and then…

She was waking up in the trees, where she'd left whatever it was.

Shaking her head, Alex reluctantly began to make her way towards where she'd left the car. She was momentarily bewildered when she found that the Impala was nowhere to be found - and frantic, too, because if Dean found out she'd lost his car…

She was entirely screwed.

"Oh, _no_ ," Alex moaned, tugging on her hair anxiously. She bit the inside of her cheek until she drew blood and contemplated how to call Dean and let him know that his car was gone because she'd apparently gone for a nap in the woods. She drew her hands down her face and then sighed heavily. She owed him a _huge_ apology, and even then, she doubted she'd ever be forgiving or allowed to drive his car again.

Groaning in frustration, Alex simply stripped her shirt over her head. She'd use her other form to get back for the time being, she decided, shifting to her canine form. She scooped her clothes up in her jaws when she was done and then took off at a speedy trot, head held high with her ears shoved forward. Once she was capable of being away from the woods, surely something helpful could be done.

It took her nearly an hour and a half to get back and when she did, it was a challenge to get the doorknob. But she managed and ducked in, closing the door swiftly behind her. She shifted again, not caring if anyone was there, and yanked her clothes back on before looking around, hands on her hips.

A frown encompassed her face when she saw no one was there. And there wasn't even a sign that anyone had been - other than herself, of course, as her bag was dumped on the floor at the end of the bed furthest from the door. Alex cocked her head and went to check the bathroom.

"Huh," she muttered, puzzled. "The bloody hell did they go?"

She contemplated calling them, and then shook her head. That wouldn't be a good idea. She'd keep the fact that she'd lost the Impala from Dean as long as possible, and would do research on her own for as long as she could.

With reluctance, Alex went to find a coffee mug, making herself a pot and cup of coffee before dropping to sit in the nearest chair at the small table supplied by the motel. She sipped at it slowly as she used her phone to do her research, humming under her breath to herself. It was odd, she realized, seeing with both eyes again. And she wasn't sure how that was possible, but she wasn't complaining.

She'd been working for some time when a knock on the door dragged her from her research. She furrowed her brow, but climbed to her feet, tucking her phone into her back pocket. It wasn't the Winchesters, Alex knew. They wouldn't have knocked. She grabbed her coffee mug before going to answer the door, sipping at it as she pulled it open.

"Can I-"

She choked on her coffee, dropping the mug. She barely noticed when it shattered at her feet, spattering her jeans and feet in hot coffee and glass shards. "Alex!" the man before her cried in alarm, but her hands trembled violently as she stared at him, unable to fully comprehend what had happened.

"Oh, my God," she whispered. "No. There is no bloody way you're here. No. I watched you...I _killed_ -"

Matthew Montgomery raised an eyebrow in amusement at his sister. "Are you okay?" he asked, taking her elbow and stepping past her, guiding her back towards the small kitchenette to grab a clean rag to wipe coffee and blood from her scratched feet. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Alex."

She said faintly, "I have. Several times. But this might be the cruelest of them."

He laughed, and the sound drew pain like no other into her heart. She wanted to tackle him in the tightest of hugs, never let go. "Did you hit your head?" he teased, his voice holding that ever familiar hint of a British accent, faded after so many years in the states. Alex said nothing, merely watching like a child as he began to gently wipe at her feet. When he was done, he tossed the rag in the sink and planted his hands on his hips, shaking his head. "Are you okay? What happened?"

She didn't know what kind of hellish experience this was, Alex realized, but she didn't really care. She hesitated, and then stepped forward, wrapping her brother in a tight hug. He looked startled, but gently hugged her back, grinning. "Alex?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I'm sorry I dragged you into all of this. I should have ignored your calls. I should have never involved you in this life. I'm sorry, Matt, I'm so sorry."

Matt tightened his arms, frowning now. "Alex, what happened?" he demanded, peering down at the top of her head.

She shook her head and instead buried her face in his chest, saying nothing. After a few minutes of standing there, with Matt hesitantly rubbing Alex's back, he said, "You wanna head home? I know you're kind of mid-hunt, but Ryss and the girls wouldn't mind a visit from their favorite aunt, and I bet there's a few hunters in the country who will eventually take over this one."

She thought it over. Alex felt a little guilty, mostly because she didn't know where the Winchesters had gone and people were being killed, but she nodded, not moving an inch. "Yeah," she finally said, biting her lip. "I want to go home."

Whatever that meant.

* * *

Home to Matt meant the house in which he'd lived. She stared numbly as nearly six hours after he'd shown up at her motel, they found themselves seated in the car before his home. Ryss was all ready waiting at the door, head cocked curiously as she watched them with two familiar girls peeking eagerly around their legs. Matt had called her as they were leaving to warn her that Alex was coming home with him.

"Hey, Alex!" Ryss called cheerfully as Alex hoisted herself out of the car, sounding so unlike she had the last time she'd spoken to Alex. Alex's heart tightened at the sound of her voice, long since lost to her. "Long time no see."

"I'd say," Alex said faintly, faltering before accepting the hug that Ryss offered. She smiled broadly, however, when the hesitant yet happy girls edged from behind their mother. "Hullo, Tessa," she said, drawing up her accent, knowing they thought it amusing. "Hully Hally."

"Hi, Auntie Alex," Hally giggled, latching onto her leg. Alex ruffled her hair and then hugged Tessa back when she nearly slammed into Alex, looking happy that she was there. Alex fought the urge to cry as she finally just crouched and clutched the two girls as tightly as she could to her. "Auntie Alex?" Hally said nervously. "Are you okay?" Ryss looked just as worried as her daughters as Alex buried her face in Tessa's hair.

"Rough hunt," Matt said quietly to his wife, who nodded wisely even as Hally peered curiously up at him, not understanding what her father meant.

"Well," Ryss said as Alex reluctantly pulled away. "I made dinner, and I made enough for everyone, so why don't you come in and eat? It's almost bedtime, and you can tell Matt and I about it after the girls have gone to sleep."

"Aw," Tessa whined, "but we want to hear about it."

"No," Alex mumbled, shaking her head. "You really don't, Tessa."

She sent them inside and they both went, taking her hands to drag her in with them. Hally launched into a conversation about school and how much fun she was having learning about history, and Alex found herself smiling and giggling a little at the young girl's ridiculous excitement. She was told by a very stern Tessa that she was to sit between the girls at dinner, to which Alex agreed with ease, and then dragged to the dinner table.

Matt grinned as he took a seat across from her after shedding his jacket, looking comfortable as Ryss hummed to herself while placing the meal's dishes in front of everyone. "Alright," she said when she was done, "go ahead."

Alex wrinkled her nose when she realized that she couldn't quite smell the delicious looking food as well as she usually did, but decided it didn't matter all that much.

She was just happy to be having dinner with her family again.

When everyone had finished scarfing as much food as they could hold down their throats, Ryss collected dishes and put them in the sink to do later before going to put the girls to bed. Matt went to grab some beer for the adults to enjoy, leaving Alex alone at the table. She was waiting for them to come back, enjoying the contentment she felt, when her phone suddenly went off. She dug it out of her pocket and picked up without looking at the caller ID. "Hello?"

There was a large amount of static in her ears before a voice she knew suddenly came through. "Alex?"

" _Cas_?" Alex replied, sitting up straight.

"Alex, can you hear me?" Castiel continued, and she had the feeling he'd certainly not heard her. "I...believe…" He cut in and out for a moment before he suddenly proclaimed, "...happened?"

"Cas," Alex said with care, "I can't hear you." She wasn't entirely sure on what was happening, on how her family was alive and why Castiel's phone call couldn't be clearer, as he was an angel who could bring people back from the brink of death, but she wanted to know. "Cas? _Cas_!"

 _Sleep,_ something in the back of her mind whispered, sending chills down her spine. _Sleep, and it will all be over soon._

"Alex?" Matt said, coming back with a case of Guinness in his hands. "Everything okay?"

She waved for him to shut up, but the phone call suddenly hung up and she scowled when she tried to call Castiel back and the call wouldn't connect. Giving up, she set her phone aside, ready to immediately lunge for it if he tried again. "Sorry," she muttered to her brother, not tearing her eyes off of it. "Can you hand me one of those?"

"Sure," he agreed, sliding a beer towards her. She took it, eagerly popping the lid off and drinking half of it in one go. She was about ready to chug a few, just to rid her of the headache that was frustration forming. "Who was that?"

"...prank phone call," Alex lied and chugged the rest of her beer.

If this was Hell, or some other kind of special afterlife...she was more than happy to stay there.

* * *

"Anything?" Dean asked, clenching his teeth in his impatience. Castiel furrowed his brow, standing before them with his phone in his hands. "Did she pick up?"

They'd summoned the angel after a short while of unsuccessful looking, not trusting themselves to find Alex fast enough. While most djinns they'd hunted seemed to be okay with draining their victims over a length of time, this one had been draining bodies quickly. And none of them were entirely sure on why it would take a skinwalker prisoner.

"Yes," Castiel surprised them by saying, looking puzzled. "I was unable to be successful in speaking with her, as you are aware, but I heard her once. The call was ended quickly."

"So at least we know she's alive, even if she's dreaming," Sam murmured, looking relieved. He had the skinwalker's actual phone in his hand, having found it in the room after trying to look up where the phone was on his laptop. "That's...that's good to know, right?"

"Right," Dean said firmly. Guilt was rampant in him. Alex was going to hate waking up. If her dream was anything like his had been, then she was seeing someone she had loved and known who was dead - more than likely her brother. And, if it _was_ like his own had been, where he'd not been a hunter...well, there'd be a lot of suffering she hadn't gone through.

Who'd want to leave that life?

"Can you find her?" Sam asked Castiel, who tilted his head in thought as he considered it before shaking his head. "Why not?" he demanded.

"Because she still has the hex bag on her," Dean said bitterly. For once, the hex bags were working against them. Although it probably wasn't a bad thing. With Alex knocked out, it would have been incredibly easy for the angels to show up and drag her off to who the hell knew where - or demons. "Why don't you shazam us off to where she disappeared, and we can see if you can find anything at the crime scene? All the cops should be gone by now. Won't wanna hang around in the dark if they can avoid it."

Castiel, momentarily confused by what he meant by "shazam," cleared his throat and said, "I can do that. Where did Alex disappear?" Sam informed him and without hesitation, Castiel reached for them, pressing the tips of his fingers to their foreheads. Between one blink and the next, they were back in the forest near the road Alex had abandoned the Impala on, frowning.

"Anything you can feel or something?" Dean grunted, caught off guard despite having been the one to suggest the "shazaming." "We don't got time to just stand around."

"Someone's worried," Sam said almost teasingly, smirking. Dean sent him a nasty glare and folded his arms, feeling for the knife that he'd tucked into the inside of his jacket. He'd traded with Sam, taking Alex's blade instead of the demon knife. Sam hadn't brought it up and he was grateful for that; he wanted to be the one to kill the damn djinn.

Castiel looked around, slowly spinning in one spot as if it was enough. He disappeared with the sound of fluttering feathers and reappeared a dozen or so feet away. He did this twice more before reappearing beside them, troubled. "Nothing."

Dean swore. He didn't know what he'd thought Castiel would be able to find. With Alex's hex bag, he was as lost as they were on how to find her. But, at least, they had an angel with them if the sucker showed back up.

"Let's stop and think," Sam decided, running a hand through his hair. "What places near here do you think one would hide in? Cas, how much do you know about djinns?"

Castiel gave him a somewhat blank look; he knew plenty, but that would do them no good for the time being. Not when they needed to know specifics. His blue eyes roved the area, thoughtful.

Suddenly, Dean said, "He can't be far. Right? I mean, the bastard's hauling around dead bodies. Even for the monsters that gets heavy." He remembered hearing Alex complain several times during hunts when they were disposing of bodies. "So he's gotta be close."

"Mines," Sam said suddenly, adding in. "We're in western South Dakota. The hills are loaded with abandoned mines. There could be an entrance around here. Start looking." He spun around, hunting for it without waiting for their agreement. Castiel sighed, but joined in, and Dean headed deeper into the trees, searching the rocky areas around them.

They were searching for only a short while before Castiel appeared behind Dean, muttering, "I've found it."

"Damn it, Cas," Dean snapped, jumping at the sudden appearance of the angel. Castiel looked bewildered by his agitated response, but didn't say anything about it. Dean shook the shock off and questioned, "You found it?"

He nodded. "Sam is waiting."

"Let's go then and no angel teleporting," he added hastily when Castiel reached out with his hand. "It's close enough." Castiel frowned and dropped his hand but nodded, turning and leading Dean with ease through the trees, as if he knew exactly where he was going.

Dean was sure that, in some weird way, he did, for they reached Sam quickly. Sam had the demon knife out, checking it. He glanced up when he heard Castiel and Dean coming, nodding towards the entrance to the mine. "You got a flashlight?"

Dean dug in his jacket pockets and came up empty handed, but pulled out his phone. "I got a phone."

"That'll work. Cas, you stay out here and let us know if anything's coming," Dean decided, and Castiel furrowed his brow but nodded, awkwardly just standing there with his angel blade sliding free of his sleeve as they ducked into the mineshaft. Dean shone the light around as they went, not at all pleased that they were entering a mine around dusk, and admitted started a little when Sam suddenly spoke a few minutes into following the shaft.

"You got her blade?"

"Yeah," Dean said, lifting it. He grimaced when he had to duck his head, snickering a little when Sam cursed upon smacking his forehead on something. "Watch your head, Sammy," he told him. Sam scowled and told him to shut up.

The shaft got smaller the further in they got and when they finally found something other than a tunnel, Dean was barely able to squeeze through, Sam even less so. But after shoving themselves through a final cleft in the rock, in which Sam paused to dig through his pockets for something in case they needed to find their way back, they found themselves in a larger area that towered a dozen or so feet above their head. Silence was broken only by the sounds of their breathing and the trickling of an underground creek nearby. Dean wrinkled his nose at the familiar smell of decomp somewhere nearby.

"Anything?" Sam said quietly as Dean shone the light around, flexing his fingers around the hilt of Alex's knife. Sam gave up on finding something and instead just joined his brother, peering around the area.

"Not really," Dean admitted, frustrated. "Maybe we got the wrong mine." He'd barely spoken when something caught his attention on a wall of the small cavern. He grimaced at the familiar sight of dried blood, exchanging a glance with Sam. "Scratch that," he muttered in disgust, "we've got the right mine."

Sam moved closer to investigate, pulling out his own phone to use the flashlight, and Dean left him to study it, instead heading across the space to search for anything that might help them locate Alex and any other possible people. "You know," Sam said suddenly as he glanced over. "I've never heard of djinns going after skinwalkers."

"Neither have I, but that didn't stop this one," Dean said. He shone his light over an odd crevice and then grunted. "Sam," he snapped, ducking through it, barely able to squeeze through. He took a moment to wonder how the djinn got anyone anywhere through cracks like this before he focused on the cavern before him as Sam squeezed through after him.

The smell was horrendous and Dean was very careful to keep his eyes off of the odd pile in the corner of the small area, his eyes instead roving the rest of the cavern. There was a skeleton in one spot, and a body from only a few days or weeks beside it, wrists still tied above its head, bound there by rope.

"Dean!" Sam said suddenly, lunging when his gaze locked on the familiar form of Alex. Dean jerked after him with a swear when he realized she was tied similarly, her wrists trapped by a leather belt. She was unconscious, he noted as he crouched beside her, checking her pulse. Her breath was soft against his arm, her expression peaceful despite the bruises on her skin, the cuts that littered her arms and chest.

"At least the djinn that went after me was smart enough to use IVs," Dean muttered, watching as Sam cut Alex's wrists free. When she was free, Sam left Dean to grab her, heading over to make sure that some of the others weren't still alive. When Dean had put away his phone and picked Alex up, looking over, Sam shook his head. Nothing. Alex was the only one still alive, and that was because she was a skinwalker and they'd gotten there quickly.

"I'll go first, keep an eye out for the djinn," Sam decided. Dean gave a curt nod, trying to figure out how he was going to squeeze back out with Alex unconscious. He suddenly spoke up. "Hey. Sam. Here." Sam glanced back and Dean awkwardly offered Alex's knife. Sam put the demon blade away and then managed to grab it from Dean, testing it thoughtfully in his hand before moving on, squeezing through the small entrance.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered, struggling through. He winced when he knocked his head on a rock and even got wedged for a moment. Sam tried to help, shining the light back to help him through. Swearing under his breath as they crossed the first cave they'd entered, he said, "Let's get Alex out and to Cas, and then we'll come back in-"

It was dark enough that Dean didn't see the djinn coming. It slammed into him from behind and Dean shouted in surprise as he hit the ground, Alex sent painfully sprawling. Dean had a moment to think that the djinn must have just recently dosed her for her to not wake up before it was on him, struggling to get its hands on his face as Dean grabbed its wrist and shoved it back, yelling when he saw marks light up blue on its skin, " _Sam_!"

The djinn dove back when Sam went after it with Alex's knife. His eyes were darkened with frustration when the djinn seemed to disappear into the darkness, lifting his phone to shine the light around desperately. He yanked out the demon knife again and handed it to Dean when his brother demanded he do so, if only to keep it off long enough for Sam to kill it. He kept close to where Alex was after making sure she'd not hit her head too hard on the ground, wary. He'd rather not the djinn drag her off after they'd just found her.

"Where the hell are you, bastard?" Dean muttered, pulling out his own phone to shine the light around. He caught a glimpse of movement and snapped around. "There!" he said, and Sam spun around, immediately moving. The djinn spat at him, slamming into Sam at full force. The youngest Winchester went down with a shocked yelp when it knocked the breath out of him. They struggled for a moment and Dean lurched forward, slamming his foot into the side of the djinn's head. It shrieked as it hit the ground, bellowing, but before it could go anywhere, Sam was slamming the black blade home, straight into its heart, with as much force as he could.

The djinn went limp after a few seconds, and the Winchesters took a moment to catch their breath before Dean let out a huge breath. "You good?"

"Yeah," Sam rasped. "You?"

"Yeah," Dean echoed. He put the demon knife safely into the inside of his jacket and returned to Alex. She stirred just a little as he picked her up again, vowing to never mention that he'd dropped her. She'd never let them hear the end of it. Dean waited until Sam had retrieved her weapon and cleaned it on his jeans before walking over.

"Let's get out of here," Sam muttered and Dean only nodded in agreement.

* * *

When they reappeared in the motel room, Castiel frowned and watched as Dean immediately went for the nearest bed, gently lowering Alex onto it. His blue eyes flickered curiously before shifting to look at Sam, who was looking exhausted and ready for sleep. "The djinn is dead?"

"Yeah," Sam muttered, going for the nearest duffel. He dug around for the first-aid supplies they kept on hand. "Thanks, Cas. For helping."

Castiel inclined his head, but didn't leave. Instead, he said, "You should take her to Bobby." Both Winchesters looked to the angel in surprise. Castiel met their gazes evenly. "She will need to recover."

Without further explanation, content that Alex was at least physically safe, Castiel vanished and Sam and Dean exchanged puzzled looks, neither pleased with the idea that Bobby was considered better off for recovering than they were - even if it was probably true.

"Here," Sam said suddenly, tossing the first-aid kit to him. Dean barely snagged it before it hit his head. He arched a brow, silently asking where Sam was going and Sam said, "I'm gonna go get us some food and stop in at the station to tip them off about the mine. She'll want to eat when she wakes up. You want anything?"

Dean shook his head, not hungry, though he knew that Sam would bring him back some burger to eat anyways. Sam nodded wordlessly anyways and grabbed Dean's keys from where they'd left them on the table and ducked out of the motel room. Dean turned to look at Alex, shaking his head. He didn't know why they bothered dealing with her cuts; they were all ready mostly healed. At least, the older ones were. There was one nasty one with blood crusting her throat, but that wasn't deep enough to cause much damage. Just another scar to add to many.

He got to work, expertly scrubbing what wounds he could get to with a rag he fetched from the bathroom, snickering at how wary the cleaning staff would be when they found the blood-stained towels. He didn't bandage many of them, merey taped a piece of gauze over the cut on her neck and called it good. He made a face at the thought of how the dinn had gotten to her blood and even wondered why the hell it would drink skinwalker blood when they usually thrived on humans like everything else that went bump in the night.

Dean went to put the first-aid things away with a grunt.

Then again, Lucifer was walking the earth.

He supposed many things were different now.

* * *

Alex was out for quite some time. By the time she was stirring, Sam and Dean had agreed to just start heading for Bobby's with her sprawled out in the back seat, curled up to enjoy the last few drops of magic, or whatever it was that the djinn used, that was ensuring some kind of happy situation. They'd been driving for a few hours, with Sam skimming through different sources of material on his phone, looking for something new on their situation with demons, angels, and the war between Michael and Lucifer.

A groan drew their attention to the backseat. Sam turned in his seat to investigate and Dean glanced at him before flicking his eyes to the rearview mirror, trying to see if she was waking up and he should pull over.

"Dean," Sam said, and he immediately pulled the Impala over, knowing that this was going to be a rough moment. Dean threw the car in park and then cut the engine, swinging out as Sam twisted awkwardly in the passenger seat to lean awkwardly over into the back.

Dean yanked the back door open and furrowed his brow. Alex's head was closer to him, and he could see the way her face was twisting, her mind struggling to latch onto the dream as it came to an end. He glanced briefly at Sam, who wore a grim expression.

This was going to be pleasant, Dean thought sarcastically as Alex's eyes fluttered open. She blinked once to clear her bleary gaze, looking at Sam with confusion, and then suddenly glanced up, as if knowing someone was standing behind her. Dean met her gaze with a faint grin. "Rise and shine, sweetheart," he said wryly, though his expression softened a fraction when agonizing grief suddenly filled her expression.

He knew what it was like to wake up from that kind of dream, what it was like to wake up knowing that your family was dead because of things you'd done.

Her face broke as she pressed her hands over her eyes, a sob escaping her. "Send me back," she begged, voice rough with sleep. "Please let me go back. I want to go back."

Sam's gaze flickered with sympathy. "Alex…"

Dean watched her closely as she simply rolled onto her side, away from Sam, and buried her face in the seat, and then crouched beside the Impala. "Alex," he said gruffly, "c'mon, man, you can't do this again." She didn't move or answer, so he continued. "I know it sucks. Believe me. Djinn dreams are like your own little personal heavenly experience, but we got things to do. We still have to stop Lucifer and we just got a text from Chuck. Life and death situation."

She took a shaken breath, saying in a watery muffled voice, "I didn't want to wake up."

"I know," he told her. "I didn't want to either." Sam glanced his way in surprise, and Alex, too, suddenly looked at him. He didn't so much as take a second glance at her clouded blind eye, at the scars on her face, as he met her gaze evenly. "But life isn't fair and we gotta go save people so they don't lose their friends and family and feel like we do."

Alex didn't move for a moment, and then suddenly rolled upright, sitting up in the seat closest to him. She opened her mouth, faltered, and then simply gave in and asked hoarsely, "Can I hug you?"

Dean sputtered, looking startled by the question as he pleadingly turned to Sam for help on what to do. Sam was entirely unhelpful, merely snickering before turning around to face forward, grabbing his phone. Dean glared at him, knowing he was probably trying to prepare his phone for a picture. "Yeah," he finally muttered. "Only this once though, ya hear me? If you try again-"

She was out of the car in a flash, swiping at her eyes a final time and he grunted when she practically slammed into him, her arms wrapping as tightly as she could without hurting him around his middle. Dean's hands fluttered uselessly for a moment before he huffed and finally just gave her a quick squeeze. It wasn't bad, he supposed as she surprised him by quickly burying her face against his chest. He wouldn't have minded it had she wanted a second one despite his words.

But the sound of a camera going off had his face darkening with murderous intent, and he pushed her back, saying darkly, "Get into the car."

Her lips weakly tugged upwards and she did as he said, hauling herself into the backseat as Dean threatened, "Sam, you have thirty seconds to delete that."

"Okay," Sam said without missing a beat, grinning at his phone as he hit a button with enough finality to make Dean lunge back through the driver-side to grab it. He stared at the screen. "Who the _hell_ did you send it to, Sam?"

"Just Bobby," Sam said with a smirk. He didn't look the least bit apologetic. "Thought it would cheer him up."

Dean eyed the phone for a moment as he swung the rest of the way into the Impala. He yanked out the battery of the phone without missing a beat, hurled the phone itself at Sam, and then tossed the battery over his shoulder into the floorboards of the back seat.

Sam only laughed under his breath.

Batteries didn't hold saved pictures, after all.

* * *

 _A moment! I've been planning this chapter for a long, long time, and hope you enjoyed it! Things will be moving forward at a little bit of a faster pace for Dean and Alex now. Not too fast, but faster. ;)_

 _Thanks to reviewers (CelestialGodSlayer16, BlueBloodsSVUOrder, emily2696, Guest #1, Morgan, and ashley!) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	39. Abandon All Hope

"I'll wait out here for the boys," Alex said, the first to speak as the car pulled to a stop and was turned off. Her blue gaze was locked on the large gate by the end of the driveway that her companion had parked in. "For one, I'm recognizable on sight. And two, I don't want to give us away before you can get in there."

Jo Harvelle shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said, swinging out of the car. The white dress she wore hung beautifully on her, the cloth draping in an alluring way. She fixed her blonde hair into a better position, pausing to peer back at the car that was waiting just down the street. She could see the Winchesters climbing out. "See you inside, Alex."

"Likewise," Alex said in response, smiling warmly at her as she swung out of the passenger seat. She quite liked Jo and was glad that they'd gotten to meet again after their first initial meeting regarding War. She kept ducked low as Jo headed for the gate and its intercom, sliding around the side of the vehicle as she headed for Sam and Dean. They were all ready walking down the darkest side of the road, getting ready to hide in the shadows of the gate. "Ready?" she murmured.

Sam nodded; Dean smirked and held up a canister of salt.

She rolled her eyes, somewhat relieved when he then held up a shotgun, and took out her own blade, listening intently as Jo spoke into an intercom.

It had been some time since the djinn had dragged her through Heaven and back. After "helping Chuck," which is what she and Sam had started calling the event with the convention that Becky had tricked them into attending, they'd begun the work of hunting down the demon Chuck had mentioned having the Colt: Crowley. None of them had heard of him before, but the mention of the Colt had been something to give them a drive to move forward. Maybe, just maybe, if they were lucky, the Colt could kill the devil.

It had taken them a while to track Crowley down. Castiel had been the first to find him and had let them know immediately. They'd slowly narrowed his location down with the help of Ellen and Bobby, who remained in South Dakota sorting everything out. Finally, they'd locked on and now it was time to move.

The screeching of the black gate that protected the driveway to the mansion towering nearby dragged Alex's attention back to the present. She darted forward, keeping her back to the shadowed fencing as she dragged in the scent of sulphur. Sam was barely breathing beside her, Dean shifting his grip on his own silver knife and salt.

"Evening, pretty lady," a male voice greeted Jo. "Get yourself on in here."

Jo was pretty damn good at deception, Alex decided as she nervously replied, "I just need to make a call."

"You don't need to call anyone, baby," the demon purred, and Alex could imagine the grin that was spreading over his face. "We're the only help you're ever gonna need." Jo took a step away, luring them further out. Alex held her breath as they followed. "We _said_ ," he spat, reaching for her, "get your ass in here." He grabbed her shoulder, eyes flicking black and there was only a heartbeat before Jo lurched into action.

She leveled the first demon, slamming him into the ground, and Alex lunged for the second man when he reached for her. She hit him like a freight train, her lips pulled back in a snarl as she drove her black knife up to the hilt in his chest. Beside her, Sam yanked the knife out of the demon Jo was pinning. "Nice work, Jo," Dean commented.

Jo smirked as she pulled back, pushing blonde hair from her eyes. "Thanks," she said. Dean handed her a bag that he'd brought with them and she reached into it, pulling out some tools that would allow them to disable the electricity and, ultimately, the alarm systems. "Shall we?" she hummed, arching a brow.

"I find it important," Alex told her, "to remind everyone how much I like you."

Jo grinned in response and led the way through the gate, swinging a wire cutter around in preparation.

It didn't take them long. All it took was finding a box on the side of the mansion, and Jo went to work, humming as she did so. Alex kept an alertful watch, her nostrils flared wide to drag in any scents that drifted through the area. They were almost caught by one demon, but one growl from Alex had them all warned. Sam darted forward when she opened her mouth to sound the alarm and tackled her with a hand over her mouth, the demon knife driven home.

"Done," Jo announced, and they all prepared themselves. "I'm heading back to Bobby's. Meet you there?" Alex nodded, and when she was gone, the rest of them ducked through a window that Alex managed to pry open, silently breaking the locks with as much strength as she dared to use without making sounds. The building was dark as they ducked through. Sam went first, helping Alex through. Dean was last, checking the salt-filled shotgun he'd brought to ensure it was ready for use.

"This way," Alex said, taking the lead. She led them through a hall that she herself had been in only a few days before with Sam and stopped just inside the entry to the mansion, near the front door. Before them was a demon none of them had ever seen before. A little shorter than the Winchesters, although taller than Alex, with dark hair and an immaculate suit.

Sam was the first to speak. "It's Crowley," he said calmly and the demon turned to face them. "Right?"

"So," Crowley said, eyeing them with an intelligent look in his eyes. Alex blinked, caught off guard. He was a foreigner, too. Well, his host's body was at the very least. "The Hardy Boys finally found me. Took you long enough."

Sam tightened his grip on the knife, Dean adjusting his own on the shotgun. Alex lined her blade up along the inside of her arm, not trusting Crowley when she couldn't clarify if he was alone. Too much sulfur. He took a step towards them, and then paused, bending to flip over a rug. The action was enough to reveal a devil trap drawn on the bottom of it. Alex grimaced at Sam; so much for their hard work from two days before.

"Do you," Crowley said irritably, glaring at them, "have any idea how much this rug cost me?"

Alex snorted softly. "A soul?" she muttered, earning a half-grin from Dean for her effort. A squawk left her when she was suddenly grabbed by the arm, a demon appearing from the corner of the room to twist it painfully beneath her. Grunts and shuffling told her Sam and Dean were experiencing the same problems and when she glanced over, they were disarmed and trapped in place by demons, too.

Crowley smirked, holding up a very familiar gun that caught all of their attention: the Colt. "This is it, right?" he mused, studying it for a moment. "This is what it's all about." He aimed the gun at Dean suddenly, and Sam sucked in a nervous breath, gaze darting to his brother. Dean's gaze hardened.

This was _not_ going as planned.

The gun went off and Dean jerked in surprise when the demon pinning him in place dropped, convulsing just a moment before another was sounded. Taking advantage of the confusion, Alex snapped around in the demon's grasp, snapping her teeth. The demon reeled back, caught unprepared, and she snatched her blade up, slamming it through the demon's chest.

Crowley looked unsurprised as he lowered the Colt, eyeing them thoughtfully. "We need to talk," he said simply, "privately." He waved for them to follow him and Sam narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he let Dean go first. He waited until Alex was heading into the next room over before following himself, all of them suspiciou of the demon's actions. He was a _demon_ after all; who knew when he'd turn on them?

"Do you know how deep I could have buried this thing?" Crowley said as he waved a hand, slamming the door shut behind them. "There's no reason you or anyone should know this even exists, except that I told you."

" _You_ ," Alex drawled, rolling her eyes to the ceiling above as she shifted her weight onto one hip, "told us." She distinctly remembered Chuck being the one to tell them.

"Rumors," Crowley said smugly, dropping into a very comfortable looking and cushioned seat. "Innuendo, sent out on the grapevine."

"Why though?" Sam asked, and the other two nodded, eager to know just why a demon would be interested in telling them something like this. "Why tell us anything?" _You're a demon,_ he added silently.

Crowley studied the Colt in his hand, quite suddenly aiming it at Dean. Alex and Sam flinched; Dean sent him a murderous glare, not happy that he was playing with a gun while pointing it in his direction. "I want you," he told them, "to take this thing to Lucifer and empty it into his face."

"Uh-huh," Dean said drily, "and why exactly would you want the devil dead?"

"It's called," Crowley said, placing the gun carefully down in his lap after clicking on the safety, "survival. Well, I forgot you two," he paused now to wave at Sam and Dean, "are at best functioning morons while you," he gestured to Alex, "are more dog than anything else."

Alex bristled while Dean made a weak attempt at firing back at the demon. "You're functioning...morons," he finished awkwardly and Sam and Alex both rolled their eyes. Alex made a small expression of amusement at herself; this was quickly becoming the day her eyes were permanently stuck upwards.

"Lucifer isn't a demon, remember?" Crowley said pointedly. "He's an angel. An angel famous for his hatred of humankind. To him, you're just filthy bags of pus." Alex growled at the sound of that, not liking the imagery. "If that's the way he feels about you, what can he think about monsters like us?" He waved between Alex and himself.

"Hey," Dean said curtly, "she's not on the same level as you."

"I don't know whether to be pleased or insulted," Alex muttered, earning a slight smile from Sam. She cleared her throat, folding her arms with the black knife in her hand still held tightly. "He created you though. You're his creations."

"To him, we're just servants," said Crowley, shaking his head. "Cannon fodder. If Lucifer manages to exterminate humankind, we're next. So," he said, straightening his back a little and squaring his shoulders. "Help me, hm? Let's all go back to simpler, better times, back to when we could all follow our natures. I'm in sales, damn it!" He scowled. "So what do you say if I give you this thing, and you go kill the devil?" He held out the Colt with the bad end held towards himself, an offer of a demonic version of peace. Sam and Dean exchanged a glance and then looked to Alex. Alex contemplated before stepping forward, reaching to take it.

Crowley looked pleased as she stepped back, the gun in her hands. She handed it over to Sam, who messed with it for a second before, in a matter of seconds, pointed and fired the gun at Crowley. There was a simple click and Sam blinked when Crowley merely gave him an impassive look, almost amused. "Oh, right," he mused, climbing to his feet and sauntering over to a desk that stood within the room. He shuffled through the drawers. "You'll need some more ammunition…"

"Uh, excuse me for asking," Dean said, looking at Crowley as if he was crazy. Alex nodded to herself; he probably was if he was handing the Colt over to them of all people. "But aren't you kind of signing your own death warrant? I mean, what happens to you if we go up against the devil and lose?"

Crowley calmly answered, "Number one, he's going to wipe us all out anyway. Two, after you leave here, I go on an extended vacation to all points nowhere." His gaze snapped up and darkened, his voice rising to a shout. "And three, how about you _don't miss_ , okay?! _Morons_!" He threw something at Dean that was akin to a hex bag. Dean snagged it before it could hit the ground. He glanced down for only a moment to see what was in it - bullets - before looking up again.

Alex and Sam were all ready staring at the spot Crowley had been in with surprise. "Ugh," Dean muttered, shoving the bullets into his pocket. Sam offered him the gun, and Dean took it. The familiar weight of the gun their father had hunted for made him feel a little sick.

"Well," Alex said tiredly. "Shall we head to Bobby's and meet the rest of them there?"

There were nods of agreement from both.

* * *

Alex's eyebrows rose as she stood beside Jo beside Bobby's table, watching as Ellen, who'd greeted them all warmly upon arrival, sucked down a fifth shot. "Alright, big boy," she said, waving at the five lined up before Castiel, who sat across the table from her. Alex's lips spread into a grin. She knew what would happen even before Castiel began to drain his own shots. She wasn't sure why Ellen and Jo wanted to get the angel drunk, but she was going to bet it'd be interesting.

"I think I'm starting to feel something," Castiel mused when he was done, looking between the three women hesitantly. Ellen sputtered; Jo merely laughed, delighted by this discovery.

Shaking her head, Alex, beer in hand, went to join the Winchesters instead, lost in thought. They were seated on either side of Bobby's cluttered desk, also with bottles of alcohol, and as she joined them, propping her hip on the edge of the desk, Dean took a swig of his, listening to Sam as he shook his head and said, "It's gotta be a trap."

"Sam Winchester," Dean mused with a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Trust issues with a demon? Better late than never."

" _Really_?" Alex muttered, glaring at him as Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Thank you for your continued support."

"You're welcome," said Dean and clinked his bottle of beer to Sam's before taking another deep drink. "You know, trap or no trap, it's a chance. We gotta take it, right?"

"I guess," Sam muttered.

"Besides," Dean continued, "I'm not sure it's a trap. Check it out. I mean, Carthage is lit up like a Christmas tree with Revelation omens. And look at this." He pushed a series of papers at the two, and Alex leaned over the desk to look. "Six missing people reported in town since Sunday," Dean told them as their gazes skimmed it. "I think the devil's there." Sam accepted that and nodded, but glared when Dean added, "Look, when you think about it, you can't come with."

"And why not?" Alex snapped, irritable. "Are we really doing this again, Winchester? Can you not wait until we've figured out if we're dead or not before being an arse about everything?"

"Cranky," Dean accused before clarifying just what he'd meant. "Look, I go against Satan and screw the pooch, okay?" Alex gave him a blank look, not having the faintest idea what he meant - and certainly not appreciating the use of a dog comparison. "If I die, we've lost a game piece," he huffed to her. She nodded. "That we can take. But if Sam's there, then we are handing his vessel right over to him. In what way is that smart?"

"When have we ever done something that's smart?" Sam demanded. "We broke into a demon's mansion for a gun."

"I'm serious," Dean huffed, and Alex growled at him.

"Are you a bloody idiot?" she said with a sharpness to her gaze. "The last time you two went different ways, you went with Zachariah and he released Lucifer. And I killed my brother, so I'm going to input myself into this, too. Dean. We're all going together." She stared him down, searching his green eyes intently as Sam gave her a neutral look, unsure of whether or not he should praise her or scold her for thinking such negative things.

Finally, Dean looked away. "Fine," he muttered, "but it's - is Cas taking shots?"

Alex grinned, sipping at her drink again. "Yes. Ellen wants to see if he can get drunk."

"Talk about stupid ideas," Sam muttered, shaking his head.

"True, that," Dean agreed, and then climbed to his feet. "I'm gonna get another beer. You guys want any?" Alex lifted a hand and set aside her empty bottle after draining what was left. Dean nodded and then went to go and get the beer. She arched a brow when Jo went to join him while he was shuffling through the fridge's contents.

Deciding not to be nosy, Alex turned her attention on Sam. "Didn't take your thunder, did I?"

"Nah," he said, sitting back in his seat. He paused, and then said, "You get the picture I sent you?"

"Yes," Alex said with a grin, good eye shimmering with amused delight. She patted her pocket, where her phone resided - home to the picture that Sam had snapped of Dean reluctantly allowing her to hug him. "Thank you for sending it to me. I now have blackmail, something I've never had against Dean before, and I appreciate the sacrifices you've made to give it to me."

"Sacrifices?" Sam said, furrowing his brow in confusion.

Alex gave him a look. "Do you honestly believe your phone will survive when Dean finds out?"

"Point taken," he muttered and then jumped when Bobby suddenly wheeled his way into the room, something in his lap. Sam blinked, and then frowned when Bobby spoke up, eyes darting between them all.

"Everybody get over here," he said with a somewhat grouchy voice. "Time for the lineup. Usual suspects in the corner." He pointed to an empty corner. Alex had wondered earlier why he'd made Castiel move the shelf that had settled there; good to know why, she supposed.

"Oh, come on, Bobby," Ellen said, ducking in from where she'd been with the others in the kitchen. "Nobody wants their picture taken."

"Hear, hear," Sam said, lifting his voice to be heard.

"I...third that," Alex added in. She hated the idea of her scars being on display for whoever would look at the picture at a later point.

"Shut up," Bobby snapped, glaring at her first. "You're drinking my beer. Get your ass over there, Alex."

Giving up, Alex held her hands up in surrender. Dean set aside the beers he'd grabbed for them and walked over to the corner. Castiel appeared, striding from the kitchen with Jo. He looked curious, as if he didn't understand why everyone was bickering about a picture. Grumbling as Bobby set up the tripod, camera in his lap, Dean, Sam, Alex, Ellen, Castiel, and Jo all gathered together in the corner. "Anyway," Bobby said as he quickly set the camera up before wheeling himself as fast as he could over to join them, "I'm gonna need something to remember your sorry asses by."

Everyone bunched together. Ellen put an arm around her daughter and a hand on Bobby's shoulder, showing her affection for both. Castiel looked bewildered when Jo looped her arm through his playfully. Alex, ignoring both of their protests, wedged herself between Sam and Dean and surprised them both by placing her elbows on their shoulders, hands dangling loosely in front of them. Hesitantly, Sam copied her, creating an awkward puzzle-like scenario, and Dean rolled his eyes before grinning at the camera.

"Always good to have an optimist around," Ellen snorted as they settled in, smiling at the camera.

Castiel ruined everyone's moods, however, when he murmured, "Bobby's right. Tomorrow, we hunt the devil. This may very well be our last night on Earth."

Everyone's smile vanished and the camera flashed.

* * *

The next day found two cars rolling into town, full of determined occupants. Dean, driving the Impala, pulled his car over and Ellen pulled her own up beside his, windows rolled down so they could speak to one another after Sam and Alex agreed on the lack of signal on their phones being odd.

"Place seem a little empty to you?" Eleen called quietly, gesturing to the empty main street. The only signs of life were vandalism on a massive billboard with missing-persons posters tacked all over the place. Alex read one through a window and grimaced in unhappy disapproval.

"We're gonna go check out the police department," Dean told her in response. He gestured to himself, Sam, and Alex. "You, Cas, and Jo stay here and see if you can find anybody."

"Okay," Ellen agreed, and then put her car in park as the Impala pulled out and headed down the street. She watched them go as she climbed out of the car, her gaze full of worry. She didn't like separating like this; the Winchesters were notorious for getting themselves into trouble.

"Ever heard of a door handle?" Jo teased Castiel as she swung out, pushing her blonde hair out of her eyes. He was in the back seat, looking out the open window at her with surprise.

"Of course I have," he retorted, surprising them both with the attitude. He disappeared and reappeared right behind her, making her jump. She glared at him playfully as he studied the street, which appeared to be deserted. Ellen voiced her worries, asking what was up, and he answered with a dark voice, "This town's not empty. There are reapers." He could seem them all, dozens of them all in suits looking at something that he couldn't see.

"Reapers?" Ellen echoed. "As in more than one?"

"They only gather like this at times of great catastrophe," said Castiel, looking troubled as he took a step away. "Chicago Fire, San Francisco Quake, Pompeii...excuse me, I need to find out why they're here." With that, he left them, approaching a reaper. When it didn't respond to his questions, he disappeared, leaving the women entirely on their own.

Ellen exchanged a quick wary look with her daughter a few minutes later, when Castiel didn't reappear. "Let's hurry and find those boys," she said gruffly. "And Alex, too."

It didn't take them long to find the police department and as they pulled into the parking lot, Dean, Sam, and Alex were all climbing back into the Impala. Alex's nose was wrinkled, her face twisted with confusion. "Station's empty," Dean said through the open car windows as Ellen pulled the car up beside him.

"So's everything else," Jo told him. She furrowed her brow. "Have you seen Cas?"

Sam leaned closer to his brother, startled. "What? He was with you."

"Nope," Ellen said, "he went after the reapers." That earned she and Jo curious looks, and she explained, "He saw them everywhere. Should we park and head out? Search on foot?"

"Sounds like a smart idea," Alex agreed and slid back out without pausing to wait. She removed her blade from its hiding place, twirling it around her fingers as the Winchesters, Jo, and Ellen joined her. They all clambered for various weapons and when they were all ready, they started down the road. Sam checked his shotgun as they went, and Dean shifted the demon knife from one hand to the other, free hand checking his jeans for the Colt. Ellen and Jo, also holding shotguns, looked around as they walked, suspicious of the empty streets.

"Do you smell anything, hon?" Ellen asked Alex.

Alex made a so-so motion with her free hand, wrinkling her nose again. "Sort of. There's sulphur, but it overpowers everything else in this bloody town." She scowled suddenly. "I know there are demons, but there's so much sulphur I can't figure out where it's coming from."

" _And_ we lost Cas," Dean muttered. "This is great. Twenty minutes in town and we've already lost the angel up our sleeve and our dog's nose isn't working right."

Sam cleared his throat. "Do you think Lucifer got him? Cas, I mean."

"Maybe," Jo muttered, scowling at the thought. She quite liked the odd angel. He was entertaining, hilarious in his lack of knowledge on everything. And her mother's attempt to get him drunk the night before had been one of the best moments in her life.

"There you are," a voice suddenly crooned. Everyone whirled around, shotguns and blades at the ready. Alex's gaze flickered with a hint of fear when she saw the woman before them. Her familiar face was smug, her hands on her hips. She raked her gaze up and down their forms, then hummed, "Shouldn't have come here, guys."

"Meg," Alex muttered in disgust.

"Hell, I could say the same for you," Dean told Meg, lifting the Colt without hesitation. His expression was one of fury. He was tired of this demon bitch. She kept showing up at the worst times.

"Didn't come here alone, Deano," Meg mused and a puddle near her feet suddenly splashed as if something had stepped in it. There was a loud growl followed by a deep bark that had Dean's face turning white in admittable fear. The other four hunters stiffened, suspecting what it was.

"Hellhounds," Dean said tightly, hand trembling a little. He'd not seen one since he'd been dragged to Hell, and he couldn't say he was excited to hear from one so soon.

"Yeah, Dean," said Meg, grinning. "Your favorite. Come on, boys, my father wants to see you. And you, too, I guess," she added, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she looked at Alex. She curled a lip. "The Soldier could always be useful."

"I think we'll pass, thanks," Sam replied.

"Your call," she said with a shrug. "You can make this easy, or you can make it really...really...hard." She beamed at the thought, looking quite excited. When Dean commented that she really should have known better, because when had they ever made _anything_ easy, Meg shook her head, laughing under her breath. Her smile vanished a moment later, however, when he aimed the Colt, snatching it up and pointing it, firing a second moment later. Blood splattered the ground as the hellhound yiped.

"Run!" Sam shouted, and the group tore off. Alex ushered Ellen along, sticking close to the older woman. Sam led the pack of hunters with Jo a step behind him. Dean wasn't far, nor was Ellen. But with one lunge of the hellhound they couldn't see, Alex found herself on the ground, dazed with the breath driven from her chest. A short scream left her lips and Dean shouted her name in alarm, followed by, "Jo, stay back!"

A gunshot went off. Alex, busy trying to free herself from the creature that was pinning her - a creature that she could sure as hell smell up close but couldn't see - grunted when it was knocked back with a yelp. Jo fired again, and the hellhound's weight suddenly grew heavy on her, as if it had collapsed. Jo screamed when a second side-swiped her, knocking her to the ground.

A worried Ellen shrieked her daughter's name as she bolted back in the direction they'd come when blood splattered the ground, talons raking over Jo's soft flesh. Dean dragged Alex out from beneath the hellhound, then shoved her head down when Sam and Ellen started firing their shotguns blindly, trying to catch the hellhound attacking Jo. The hellhound's scream filled their ears and it recoiled. Jo groaned on the ground.

"Get her," Alex gasped, tightening her grip on her weapon and swiping blood from a gash along her jaw. "I've got your back."

Dean nodded and scooped Jo up, bolting as soon as he had a good grip on her. Ellen chased after her a moment later, and Sam shouted, "Alex, go!" She shook her head and came to stand beside the youngest Winchester, rumbling, "Keep firing, I'll steer you towards the store Dean took Jo into." Her eyes were on the hardware store Dean had carried Jo into. Ellen was nowhere to be found, likely going with them to help her daughter.

It took a hot minute before they were at the store and the second they were, they ducked inside and bolted to get what they needed. Dean stayed with Ellen and Jo, both murmuring comfortingly to Jo as Sam and Alex raced to deal with the doors. Sam immediately grabbed some chains and went to work while Alex went for the rock salt. Sam joined her when he was done, both hunters going as fast as they could to line the windows and doors, nearly making spots all around the building.

"Could use some help over here!" Dean suddenly shouted and Alex looked to Sam.

"Go," he said, holding up the salt. "I'll do a final check and make sure we got everything."

"Thank you," she murmured and jogged through the hardware store. She paused when she saw a radio, thinking it might be of use, and pushed it into her pocket before darting for the others. She came to a stop when she saw Jo heaving for air, her hands shaking as Ellen and Dean carefully bandaged her up. Alex squatted between them, touching their shoulders. "What do you need?"

Ellen didn't answer. Without looking up, Dean said gruffly, "Get me a bowl of water and a rag if you can find one, we need to clean her up some."

"Got it." Alex hurried to retrieve them. It took her a moment to find a bowl, making do with an odd tub that people used to store materials in when she couldn't find one. She filled it with water in the bathroom sink, grabbed a soft towel from a shelf and returned. Rather than letting Dean do it, she began to swipe some blood and sweat from Jo's face. "Hold on, Jo," she murmured, heart twisting with worry for her. She liked Jo; it was rare, seeing other female hunters, and Jo was one of the best so far.

Ellen looked dazed as she held Jo's hand, squeezing it in her own.

Dean finished tying off the bandages he'd found and glanced up at Alex. His face was drawn with worry. "Sam?"

"Finishing the salt. Go find him, I'll stay with them," she said quietly, meeting his gaze evenly. Her own expression was tight with worry. A sudden thought occurred to her and she dug in her leather jacket's pocket, shoving something at him. "Get that working."

Dean took it, muttering a word of thanks when he recognized what she'd given him. He went to find Sam, fiddling it as he did so. When he found his brother, Sam was finishing up in a corner with the salt, nudging it so that a small opening was covered. Dean didn't look up as he stopped beside Sam, instead muttering, "How's it holding up?"

"Safe enough for now," Sam said, running a hand through his hair. "Trapped like rats though."

"Hey," Dean responded, smacking the small radio in his hand. "You heard Meg," said Dean, glancing up finally. "Her father's here. This is our one shot, Sammy. We gotta take it, no matter what - here we go." he grinned when the gadget squealed. "Smart mutt."

"Alex found that?" Sam said, arching a brow.

"Sam," Ellen suddenly pleaded loudly, "can you come help out over here?"

"Coming!" Sam shouted back, abandoning Dean to the radio. Dean didn't seem to notice, instead murmuring into the radio as it began to squeal again.

"K-C-5," he said sharply into it, furrowing his brow impatiently. "Fox-delta-oscar, come in." He waited a few minutes, made a sound of frustration when Bobby didn't answer, and then tried again. "K-C-5-"

A voice cut him off, crackling, but it was enough to make Dean smile faintly in relief. "K-C-5-fox-delta-oscar, go ahead."

"Bobby," Dean rasped, finding himself breaking down a little now that he'd gotten ahold of Bobby. His throat was dry, his heart aching at the memory of the wound in his friend's side. He could easily picture the massive creature that had pinned Alex to the ground, the other that had swiped its sharp claws across Jo's soft skin. "It's Dean. We got...we got problems."

He heard Bobby sigh heavily before saying firmly, "It's okay, boy. That's why I'm here. Is everyone alright?"

Dean shook his head, knowing that Bobby couldn't see him. "No," he said, voice thick. "It's...it's Jo, Bobby, it's pretty...it's pretty bad."

"Okay," Bobby rasped, and even from the other end of the radio, Dean could hear the worry in his voice. "Copy that. So now we figure out what we do next." Dean didn't answer, pressing a hand over his face to try and regather himself. He needed to calm down. He needed to focus, and think, and-

A hand gently took the radio from his hand before he could answer. Without looking at the eldest Winchester, fingers still smeared with Jo's blood, Alex said quietly into the radio, "Hellhounds," and proceeded to explain what had happened. Dean let her, quietly adding in important details when she forgot them. He briefly wondered why she wasn't with Jo.

"Before he went missing, did Cas say how many reapers there were?" Bobby asked when Alex was done. Alex opened her mouth to answer, then paused and looked over at Dean for an answer. he shrugged.

"He said a lot of things, I guess," Dean muttered, and she kept the button pressed so Bobby could hear him. "Does the number matter?"

"The devil's in the details, Dean."

A hand tapped Alex's shoulder. Alex turned to face Ellen, who looked blank and exhausted. She held up the radio for her to speak into. "Bobby," Ellen said tiredly, "it's Ellen. The way he was looking...the number of places Castiel's eyes went...I'd say we're talking at least a dozen, maybe more."

"I don't like the sound of that," Bobby told them.

Alex snorted softly, saying drily, "Nobody does, Bobby." She faltered, and then said, her mind racing a thousand miles a second. "Does it mean anything? Regarding Lucifer?"

"Sounds like death," Bobby admitted, not holding back the information he had. "I think Satan's in town to work a ritual. I think he's literally planning to unleash Death. As in, the horseman. The pale rider in the flesh."

"Hasn't Death been tromping all over the place?" Dean said sharply, puzzled by this. "Hell, I've died several times myself."

"Don't joke about that, it's not funny," Alex snapped at him. Ellen looked inclined to agree, her hand raking through her hair. She didn't seem to notice or care that she was slicking it back with blood.

Bobby ignored them both and said, "Not this guy. This is the angel of death. Big daddy reaper. They keep this guy chained in a box six hundred feet under. Last time they hauled him up, Noah was building a boat. That's why this place is crawling with reapers. They're waiting on the big boss to show."

"You have any good news?" Dean demanded, frustrated that Bobby only seemed to have bad news.

"In a manner of speaking. I've been researching Carthage since you've been gone, trying to suss out what the devil might want there. What you just said drops the last piece of the puzzle in place. The angel of death must be brought into this world at midnight through a place of awful carnage. now, during the Civil War, there was a battle there in Carthage. A battle so intense the soldiers called it the Battle of Hellhole."

Alex grimaced, imagining how bad such a battle would have been. She could practically smell the blood, although she supposed that might have been Jo's, as horrible as she felt about thinking that way. "Bobby," she asked quietly, "where?"

"On the land of William Jasper's farm," said the older hunter.

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean said, taking the radio from her. Alex let him, watching him closely. "We'll keep you updated."

"You better, boy."

Clipping the radio to his back pocket, Dean turned to look at Alex, who was watching as Ellen silently left to check on her daughter. Alex looked grim when she returned her attention on him, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she said quietly, "Dean, we need to figure out what to do."

"We will," he reassured, shocking her by patting her shoulder and then pushing her back towards the others. He left his hand there until they'd come to a halt before Sam, Jo, and Ellen, who was murmuring worriedly to her daughter, trying to comfort her. Jo didn't look any better than before, and Dean waved for Sam to stand up when his brother glanced his way. Alex followed them a few steps away, all three keeping an eye on their friends. "We know the where, Sam. William Jasper's farm. We know where he's gonna be, we know when, and we have the Colt."

Sam scowled, and Alex muttered her agreement after he'd snapped, "Yeah, we just have to get past eight or so hellhounds and get to the farm by midnight."

Gently, Alex input, glancing over briefly at Ellen and Jo, "We have to get them out of town. That's priority. Jo won't make it if we don't." She ran a hand through her mess of hair, looking between the Winchesters. "Should we try a stretcher, or something similar? Could we move fast enough against the-"

"Stop." The weak command caught their attention. They all paused to look back. Jo was looking at them, her eyes barely seeing what was in front of them. "Stop." She swallowed thickly and then whispered as best as she could, "Can we...be realistic about this? Please?" She gasped as she tried to move a little, and Alex strode over to kneel beside her and Ellen. Sam and Dean moved closer as well, neither looking happy. "I can't move my legs. I can't be moved. My guts are being held in by an ace bandage. We...we gotta get our priorities straight here. Number one, I'm not going anywhere."

"Stop," Ellen breathed, echoing her daughter. "Joanna Beth, you stop talking like that-"

"Mom," Jo croaked. "I can't fight, I can't walk, but I can do something. We got propane, wiring, rock salt, iron nails, everything we need. To build a bomb."

Dean began to shake his head, but Jo spoke up before he could. "You got another plan? Those are hellhounds out there, Dean, with all of our scents. Those...bitches will never stop coming after you. We let the dogs in, you guys hit the roof, make a break for...for the building next over. I can wait here with my finger on the button...rip those mutts a new one."

"No," Ellen said, tears streaming down her face. "No, I won't let you."

"This is why we're here, right?" Jo said softly, watching mournfully as her mother shook her head, crying. "If I can get us a shot on the devil...we take it. We have to."

"No!" Ellen repeated, looking desperately to the others for help on shutting her daughter down.

"Mom," Jo said with a faint laugh that looked as if it was going to make her pass out from pain, "this might literally be your last chance to treat me like an adult. Might wanna take it."

Ellen pressed her face into her daughter's shoulder, sobbing for a moment. When she spoke, Jo smiled. "You heard her," Ellen rasped mournfully. "Get to work."

The others launched into motion.

It took them over an hour to gather everything. Sam methodically build and assembled each bomb with care while Alex loaded them with nails and rocksalt. Dean went to work on stringing them all together. Dean looked miserable when it was finally done, carefully laying wire that led right up to the nearly unconscious blonde, who was slumped against her mother.

"Okay," he said gently after assembling a quick trigger. Alex and Sam came to join him as he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before pulling back to wrap her fingers around the trigger. Tears were rolling down Jo's cheeks as she looked at him. "This is it. I'll see you on the other side. Sooner rather than later, probably."

"Make it later," she ordered.

Alex knelt beside him, smiling gently at Jo as Ellen slowly came to sit beside her daughter. She took her free hand and squeezed it, smiling with a surprising amount of brightness at her. "Mom," Jo breathed, "no."

"Somebody's gotta let them in," Ellen said softly, smoothing a hand over her daughter's limp hair. "Like you said, you're not moving. You've got me, Jo, and you're right - this is important. But I will not leave you here alone."

Jo sobbed, pressing her face into her mother's shoulder weakly. Alex swallowed thickly. She didn't want to leave them. She'd not known them long, or spoken with the as often as the two mournful looking men behind her, but she didn't want to leave them. Tears glittered in her eyes as she touched Ellen's shoulder.

"Get going," Ellen rasped. "Go."

Sam looked to Dean, who faltered. But then he said, "Alex, come on."

She stood after murmuring a farewell and went to join her fellow hunters. Sam squeezed her shoulder comfortingly, his own face full of grief. After one final look back, they started for the exit they'd chosen. Ellen suddenly called out, "And guys?" They paused to look over their shoulders at her. "Kick it in the ass. Don't miss."

"We won't," Alex vowed, and then, they were slipping out of the building. The second they were outside, they were running. Alex led the way, bolting down the fire escape as fast as she could. She could feel Dean and Sam's heavy footsteps rattling the grating behind her, and she briefly worried if it would collapse out from under them. But it didn't, and they were soon running down an alley, Sam's long stride catching up and surpassing hers.

"Go, go, go," Dean urged, trying to nudge her to go faster, and she snapped her jaws. She was going as fast as she could.

They had just gotten across the street when a blast sent heat and debris flying. Alex threw her arms in front of her face to protect her eyes. Dean and Sam ducked their heads to protect their own and when they all looked back, Alex was sure there was matching masks of grief in their eyes.

Ellen and Jo were dead.

"Let's go," Dean muttered, and together, they started off.

* * *

Alex wrinkled her nose. It took everything in her to not sneeze as they peered through the bushes at the dozens of men that stood in the field before them. A low growl left her lips as Dean, checking the Colt to make sure it was ready, muttered, "Guess we know what happened to some of the townspeople."

Alex rolled her eyes. Sam snorted softly and shifted the demon knife in his hand, placing it inside his jacket as he grabbed his shotgun, turning to them. "Alright," he said, "last words?"

Dean shook his head, saying, "I think I'm good," as Alex shook her head and smiled faintly at them, looking to Sam for his own. But he merely agreed with Dean's words. "Here goes nothing," Dean muttered and nodded at his brother. Alex kept low as Sam stood, shotgun in hand, and started forward.

"Hey!" he shouted when he was a dozen or so feet way from Dean and Alex. From where the pair was crouched, they could see Lucifer stop what he was doing, stilling as he turned to look at Sam. "You wanted to see me?"

Lucifer's eyes began glimmering with excitement. Alex and Dean crept around, careful not to catch his attention as he dropped the shovel he'd been using and purred, "Oh, _Sam_. You don't need that gun here. You know I'd never hurt you. Not really."

Alex kept low to the ground nearby, her blade hidden in its normal place. They would have to move fast. And fast Dean moved when he stood as close as he dared to get to the devil, lifting the colt and clicking the safety off. "Well," he said, and Lucifer spun around as Dean rested it point-blank on Lucifer's forehead.

The crack of the gun had everyone stilling. Lucifer went down.

Dean and Sam spared each other quick glances, nervous. And then Lucifer inhaled sharply and sat up, grimacing. "Ow," he muttered in a whiny tone, standing up. There was not so much as a single mark on his forehead where Dean had fired the gun. He brushed dust off of him and then slowly turned to face the two who had come up behind him. A malicious grin spread across his face. "Now," he purred, "where did you get that?"

Dean's face filled with horror just a brief second before Lucifer decked him, sending Dean flying into the tree. A moment later, he'd backhanded the skinwalker. She yelped as she flew back as well, hitting the ground at a hard role. Her bones groaned. She flew to her feet a moment later, knife raised.

Lucifer briefly looked interested, but interest became pure fury a moment later. "And _where_ did you get _that_?" he seethed, taking a step towards her, as if intending to rip the blade from her hands.

Alex bared her teeth, her face a mask of twisted rage. She said nothing, slowly pacing back to where Dean had yet to move. Sam cleared his throat, dragging the devil's attention away from Alex. "You were saying?" he gritted out.

"Don't feel too bad, Sam," Lucifer told him, turning his face towards him. "There's only five things in all of creation that gun can't kill, and I just happen to be one of them. But if you give me a minute, I'm almost done." He reached for the shovel he'd set aside, continuing what he was doing. Sam took advantage of the moment, darting for his brother. Alex met him with a grim expression, fingers tight around her blade.

"Is he okay?" Sam breathed, searching for a pulse.

"Out," Alex murmured, pressing her lips togehter. "But alive."

"You know," Lucifer hummed as he worked, grinning to himself. "I don't suppose you'd just say yes here and now?" Sam stood, looking furious. He stood before the pair, and Alex growled softly as he did, wary. "End this whole tiresome discussion? That's crazy, right?"

"Never gonna happen," Sam said sharply.

Lucifer shrugged, filling the hole a little more. "Oh, I don't know, I think it will," he told them. "I think it'll happen soon. Within six months, and I think it'll happen in Detroit."

Alex snarled, remembering what she'd seen when she and Dean had gone into the future. Sam shifted nervously and she reassured him, "Don't worry, Sam." He glanced her way and she sent him a fierce look, still bent over the unconscious Winchester. "We won't let you say yes."

Sam looked a little bit more confident about himself as he nodded and turned a fiery glare on Lucifer. "I'll kill you myself," he snapped, voice low and threatening. "Do you understand me? I'm going to kill you."

Lucifer laughed, leaning smugly on his shovel. "That's good, Sam. You keep fanning that fire in your belly...all that pent-up rage. I'm gonna need it."

Sam forced himself to calm down, eyeing the men that merely stood around them, doing nothing. "What did you do?" he demanded, glancing down to check and see if Alex had gotten Dean up yet. She was shaking his shoulders lightly, black blade still in hand. "What did you do to this town?"

"Oh," Lucifer crooned, "I was very generous with this town. One demon for every able-bodied man."

"And the rest of them?" Alex barked, rising to her feet. She gave up. Dean would wake up in his own time.

Lucifer laughed, smirking at her. "In there," he said, gesturing to the pit he'd been digging. "I know, it's awful, but these horsemen are so _demanding_. So, it was women and children first. I know what you must think of me, honestly, I do." He put on a look of mocking sympathy and sorrow, placing a hand over his heart. "But I have to do this. I have to. You of all people should understand. Both of you."

Alex uttered a low growl again, her lips pressed together as she nudged Dean gently with her foot, muttering, "Come on, Winchester…"

"I was a son," Lucifer said, tossing aside his shovel again. "A brother, even, like you, Sam. I had an older brother who I loved...idolized, in fact. One day, I went to him and I _begged_ him to stand with me, and Michael...well, Michael turned on me. Called me a _freak_. A _monster_. And then he beat me down - because I was different. Because I had a mind of my own. Tell me. Does this ring a bell with you?"

Alex snipped, "Only a bell that says you're a bloody drama queen."

"Alex," Sam breathed when Lucifer's eyes narrowed a fraction.

But Lucifer, rather than turning his attention all on Alex, shrugged, and turned to face his pit of bodies, calling, "Midnight is calling, and I have a ritual to finish. don't go anywhere. Not that you could if you would."

Alex grimaced as she listened to Lucifer begin to chant, kneeling beside Dean alongside Sam again. "We need to get out of here," Sam told her and she nodded her agreement even as she waved in exasperation around them. _How_ did he exactly expect them to get out? But Dean stirring slightly caught their attention and both bent closer, relieved. "Dean," Sam said quietly, shaking his brother's shoulder.

"I hear you," he rasped, and both hunters grinned down at him in relief for a moment. " _Shit_ -"

"Up," Alex ordered, grabbing one of his arms. Sam grabbed the other, and together, they hauled him to his feet as the demons around them began to flash with beams of gold, as if they'd been stabbed by Alex's blade or the demon knife. Each crumpled to the ground, dead. Sam and Dean stared; Alex merely wrinkled her nose in horror as Lucifer grinned at them.

"What?" he said innocently. "They're just demons."

It wasn't long before the ground shook beneath their feet and Alex and Sam each braced themselves to help keep Dean upright when he nearly fell right back to the ground, still looking somewhat dazed.

A hand suddenly clapped over Alex's arm and she opened her mouth to squawk in surprise, but stifled it when she snapped her head around and found Castiel. His blue eyes blazed with determination as he pressed a finger to his lips. She disappeared as Sam and Dean turned to look, but before they could say anything, Castiel took them away, too, and when Lucifer looked back, he scowled, furious with the loss.

Not Sam, of course. Sam would come back of his own free will.

No, the loss he felt over the beautiful black blade gleaming with ancient runes he remembered carving into the hilt himself… It made him angry. Furious. Enraged.

But there were other things to worry about right now, and Lucifer turned back to face the pit, grinning as he took a step forward. "Oh," he purred, "hello, Death."

* * *

 _Sorry about the long wait! been a busy few months. And I had to take a break from some things. But here you are. ;) I felt horrified when Ellen and Jo died the first time I watched. Killed me on the inside._

 _Thanks to reviewers (BlueBloodsSVUOrder, CarleighAlpha, Guest #1, Hey there, and Asia Saunders!) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	40. The Song Remains the Same

From where she was seated outside beneath the stars, Alex puffed out a soft breath of frustration and studied her blade closer than she ever had. It had been a few weeks since the events with Lucifer. Throughout the time, they'd done a few hunts - including a strange one in which Sam had switched bodies with a high schooler. She knew it wasn't Sam's fault, but she wouldn't forget the horrified look on his face at the up close glimpse of her scarred face.

In all that time, however, Alex had yet to discuss her black knife with either Winchester. Sam had once tried to, but Dean had come in and interrupted them with a new hunt before they could get into it. Alex pressed her lips together; they needed to get a move on, she knew. Especially if it was something Lucifer might want in the future.

Alex cocked her head, twirling the sharp blade in her fingers. She glanced over her shoulder to check and see if someone had come looking for her just yet. But there was no sign of either Sam or Dean, who'd she'd left sleeping soundly in the two queen beds that resided within the room, so she turned back to what she was doing - only to shriek in surprise, jolting back when she realized someone was crouched before her, looking quite smug about the scare.

But Alex was anything but pleased by the sight of the archangel before her. "Barachiel," she hissed, bristling. Her grip tightened on her blade, her teeth bared. They'd not heard from her "guardian angel" since they'd summoned him, and she was shaking she was so angry at the sight of him. The hand not holding her blade sunk into her pocket, fingers curling around the phone within. "What the bloody hell are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"I have my ways," Barachiel crooned, wiggling his fingers almost mockingly. "Demons talk after all."

Alex wondered if the demon who'd given them the Colt had anything to do with it. "I don't give a damn about demons. What do you want?" Her knuckles were white around the blade. "One wrong move, and this is going in your throat. Do you hear me? Don't try anything."

Barachiel straightened as Alex stood swiftly, rocking back onto his heels. His green eyes flickered with amusement as he looked her over. "I've heard through the grapevine. Not only did you trap and upset my brother Gabriel, but you also upset big brother Lucy."

"Gabriel's a twat who should know better than to faff around with us," Alex said sharply, "and what made you think we upset Lucifer? Is it the fact that Sam says no? Because I can promise you, that isn't going to change any time soon."

Barachiel hummed in response before shifting a little, smirking still. "I don't give a damn about Gabriel or Lucifer. I have plans of my own." His keen eyes slid to her, glittering with excitement that had Alex pulling her phone out casually, checking it for messages. Only one was there, from Dean. Much to her surprise, it had been sent moments before. It demanded to know where she was and to get back as soon as possible, because something had come up regarding the angels.

Alex sent a quick response, careful to keep it simple and small so Barachiel wouldn't snatch her phone away. Not that she knew if he would or not, but she had her suspicions.

 _Car. Barachiel,_ she wrote.

Shoving her phone away, aware that Barachiel had narrowed his gaze at her, she took a deep breath and said, "If you don't give a damn about your siblings, then why are you here, Barachiel? And pick up the pace in telling me; I need to get back. Summonings aren't just for angels and archangels, you know." Apparently Dean thought he could summon her to the room, too.

"Nothing big," he hummed, folding his arms and leaning into her bubble. Alex leaned back, growling loudly at him with her teeth bared. She _hated_ this archangel. She wished she didn't have to look at him anymore. "Just a little thieving. I want a piece of fabric from Castiel's trench coat."

"...excuse me?" Alex rumbled, arching a slim brow. "You're _kidding me_ , right? Because there is no way in bloody hell that I will be stealing _a piece of a trench coat_ from Castiel and giving it to _you_." She knew how important such things were to a variety of supernatural creatures and she wasn't about to willingly hand it over to the archangel who'd allowed her brother and Avery to die without a care in the world.

"You have one month, Miss Montgomery," Barachiel warned, turning and sliding away. "And if I don't have that piece of fabric...we'll see just how much damage I can do to you and your hunter friends."

Alex watched him go, jaw working furiously, and then snapped her head around when she heard footsteps. The fluttering of wings told her that Barachiel was gone, even as Sam rounded the Impala, dark eyes troubled. "Dean said he got a text saying Barachiel was out here?"

Alex lazily waved in the direction he'd gone. "You just missed him."

"What did he want?" asked the youngest Winchester, frowning as he studied the area. He inclined his head towards the motel. "And come on, we need to catch you up while we wait on Cas to get back."

Alex snorted softly. "A piece of Cas's jacket," she said with dry amusement. "I don't know for what, but I have one month to get it for him before he gets mean." She turned her face towards Sam as he paused to fumble with the handle to the motel door and then opened it for her. Alex sauntered in and glanced back as he closed the door behind them. "Why would he want a piece of a jacket?"

"Sentimentality?" Sam said with a shrug. "I don't know."

"What a great help you are," Alex retorted, although a smirk quirked her lips upwards.

"What are you two going on about?" demanded a cranky Dean as he stepped out of the bathroom, ruffling his hair. "And what happened with Barachiel? Anything we need to be worried about? 'Cause we got enough on our plates right now with the angels."

"He wants a piece of fabric from Cas's jacket," Sam reported.

"What for?" asked Dean.

Alex rolled her eyes. "As if we'd know. What's going on with the angels? Barachiel's the least of our worries, I'm guessing?"

"Anna showed up in a dream," Dean said, pressing his lips together. Alex straightened, caught by surprise. She'd not heard that name in quite some time… "She wanted to meet with me - with all of us - but she wouldn't say why. So Sam and I decided that Castiel would be the best person to see what's up. What the hell were you doing out there, by the way?"

"Good choice," Alex murmured. She patted her arm, where her blade resided. "Nightmares." The Winchesters winced, knowing just how bad they all had those some nights. "And thinking. Lucifer seemed to be particularly interested in my knife, and I was trying to think about what might have interested him so much." She dropped to sit on one of the motel beds. "But that can wait. Wasn't Anna elsewhere?"

"That's what we thought," Sam admitted. "We can't do much until Cas gets back, I guess."

And so the waiting began.

* * *

They did what they always did when they were waiting on Castiel to do something. Sharpened knives and other such weapons, cleaned guns, the likes. And they'd been at it for an hour or so when the rustle of wings was heard followed by the sigh of Castiel brushing everything off of the table and drawing on it in chalk. Dean rose to his feet; Sam remained sitting on the bed furthest from the table while Alex sat comfortably at his feet. "Cas? What's going on?"

"It's Anna," he said gruffly, not looking up. "She believes that killing Sam is our best method of dealing with Lucifer."

There was a moment of silence and then Alex clambered to her feet, Sam pressing his lips together in thought. "Isn't that just bloody brilliant," the skinwalker growled. "So now we've got her to worry about, too."

"And you're…?" Dean urged, studying the angel as he bustled this way and that.

"Trying to find her," he retorted.

"Okay," Alex said slowly, surprised by Castiel's attitude. She glanced over her shoulder at Sam. Sam was frowning. And when he spoke, it took everything in her not to deck him for his suggestion.

"This plan she has, whatever it is, to kill me...would it actually stop him? Would it stop Lucifer?" Sam asked. Dean tried to protest alongside Alex, but Sam cut them off, staring at Castiel. "Cas, what do _you_ think? Does Anna have a point?"

Castiel paused in what he was doing to stare at him for a long few moments. Finally, he shook his head. "No." He tossed the chalk aside after finishing what he was drawing. Alex peered curiously at the symbols.

"I don't get it," Dean said, frustrated. "We're looking for the chick that wants to gank Sam...why poke the bear?" He leaned his hip against the counter near the table, watching intently.

"Anna will keep trying," Castiel said calmly, reaching for a vase of oil he'd brought with him. "She won't give up until Sam is dead, so we need to kill her first." He poured the oil into a bowl that Alex didn't recall him placing in the center of the table. He began to chant something in a language she didn't recognize and all except Castiel jumped when flames jumped from the bowl. Castiel's expression darkened as he stepped away, planting his hands on the back of a chair and leaning into it. The wood groaned beneath him. "I've found her," he said when he finally looked up.

"Where is she?" Dean asked, intent on finding the angel and keeping his brother safe.

"Not where," Castiel corrected. "When." He straightened, face grim. "She's in nineteen-seventy-eight."

"What?" Sam said, looking puzzled. He came to join his fellow hunters, eyes locked on the angel. "I wasn't even born then though."

"You won't be if she kills your parents," Alex realized, her eyes rounding with shock. Dean immediately scowled, jaw working furiously at the suggestion; Sam looked worried.

"Take us back," Dean snarled, glaring at Castiel, "right now."

"And deliver you right to Anna? I should go alone."

"They're our _parents_ , Cas," Dean insisted, stepping closer. He looked like he was going to grab Castiel by the shoulders and give him a harsh shake. "We're going."

Castiel sent him a rather sharp look in response, frustrated. He retreated a few steps, scowling. "It's not that easy. Time travel was difficult even with the powers of heaven at my disposal." Alex grumbled about that; it hadn't seemed too hard for Zachariah when she and Dean had been sent to the future. "And that was cut off. Taking this trip, with passengers no less…" He shook his head, unhappy to say as much. "It will weaken me."

"They're our mom and dad," Dean rasped. "If we can save them, and not just from Anna...but I mean if we can set things right, we have to try."

Alex clenched her jaw, knowing precisely what he meant in full. And she had to admit, the idea to fix everything before it went wrong was tempting...but it didn't matter. If they did that, it'd change things now. It would wreck things that shouldn't have been wrecked, kill people that shouldn't be dead. And she wasn't going to let them do it.

Castiel sighed heavily, accepting that there was nothing he could do to convince them otherwise. With reluctance, the angel packed his jars of holy oil into a duffel that he requested Alex lend him alongside his angel blade, making sure they were secure before turning to face the others present. "I will send Sam and Dean first, and then Alex," he explained to them all, taking up a stance in front of the brothers. "Are you ready?"

Sam took the bag from Castiel, swinging it over his shoulder with a grimace. "Not really," he muttered as Castiel thanked him quietly.

"Bend your knees," Dean joked as Castiel reached for their foreheads. They vanished without Castiel, leaving him behind with Alex. He gasped softly, staggering, and Alex called his name nervously, worried. It was important they stop Anna, too, but Castiel was their friend. She didn't want to kill him getting to Anna.

"Cas," Alex said when she saw the shadows that had appeared almost immediately beneath his eyes, the exhaustion in his body. "You don't have to-"

She didn't finish her statement before his fingers were on her forehead, his blue eyes blazing with determination the last thing she saw before nothing. Alex had been transported by angels before. She knew the familiar sensation, the odd discovery of finding yourself in a new location. She'd never been brought somewhere like this.

She hit the ground so harshly, she tripped and her bones sang as she hit the ground on her stomach. She groaned, the breath driven from her, and rolled over. As she worked on catching it, Castiel collapsed a breath away. It took everything in her to ignore the nausea that flooded her system and grab him beneath the arms, hoisting him up so that he was resting against a car that was from a different time than she was, ripping the hem of her tank top when she saw that his nose was gushing blood from both nostrils.

"Cas," she rasped, pressing the fabric to his face. His blue eyes fluttered open.

"Hey!" Alex threw a relieved look over her shoulder at the sound of Dean shouting. He and Sam were running over, looking shocked.

Alex turned back to Castiel when he suddenly began struggling back to his feet. She let him lean heavily on her, his hand gripping her shoulder tightly enough to make her wince. His legs shook beneath him as Sam came around to take his other side, helping her. "Take it easy," he murmured when Castiel groaned. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Castiel said hoarsely, even as Alex pressed the fabric against his nose a little more firmly. "I'm...much better than I expected." He straightened a little and Alex found herself hopeful that he'd made it through the whole mess without ruining himself too much, that they'd have an angel working with them. But then he crumpled, blood dripping from between his lips.

"Oh, my God," Alex breathed, and Sam put his hand in front of Castiel's mouth.

"He's breathing, sort of," Sam reassured. He looked to the grim-faced Dean. "What do we do?"

"What we always do," Dean replied, shaking his head with a scowl. "Keep pushing on."

* * *

Alex eyed the motel that Dean had dragged Castiel into just moments before, her fingers tapping impatiently on her arm. She kept close to Sam, both of them near a phonebook at a payphone so that Sam could skim through a phonebook, looking for the information they needed. His eyes darted up every now and then until he suddenly ripped a page out, handing it to Alex so she could see. "Found them."

"Good," Alex replied, her lips pressed together as she studied the paper. She found the address and nodded to herself before glancing up when Sam stifled a snort. "What?"

"The mustaches," he muttered, inclining his head towards a couple that walked past them, one of them being a man with a rather large mustache decorating his upper lip.

Alex smirked, and then looked over her shoulder when she heard Dean's voice. He was muttering to himself as he walked back to join them. When he reached them, he said, voice low, "So I paid for five nights in the honeymoon suite. Told the manager, 'Do not disturb no matter what.'"

"Okay?" Alex said, waiting for the point of this conversation. "And what did he say in response?"

Dean met her gaze and scowled. "'Want to buy some dope?'" Sam chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, and Alex grinned herself, entirely amused as Dean said, "Dope? We ought to stick around here, buy some stock in Microsoft."

"Not a bad idea," Sam commented. "We might have to if Cas doesn't recover, right? Is he doing okay?"

"What do I look like? An angel medicine woman?" Dean rolled his eyes and folded his arms, glancing back at the motel. "He'll wake up. He's...you know, tough for a little nerdy dude with wings."

Alex narrowed her gaze as she studied their surroundings, saying firmly, "If he landed like that, hopefully Anna did, too. That should acquire some time for us to figure out what to do when we reach Mr. and Mrs. Winchester."

"Speaking of which, did you find them?" Dean looked expectantly at his brother.

"Four-eight-five, Robintree," he said in response, and Alex held up the page from the phonebook as proof. "So if you want to go steal us a car, let's go visit Mom and Dad." He looked excited, and Alex sighed, shaking her head. She understood why they were so eager, but...this wasn't going to end well. She could feel it in her gut.

This really wouldn't end well at all.

* * *

After a long conversation in which Dean gave a brief recount of the last time he'd seen Mary Winchester - after Castiel had brought him back from Hell and before Lucifer had been brought forth - it was decided they might as well all go and meet the Winchester couple rather than leaving Alex or Sam out of the equation. Sam had grouchily commented that there was never the change of leaving Dean out, to which he'd responded she knew who he was - their mother, at least, although he'd apparently met John, too.

It was nighttime by the time Dean pulled the car they'd stolen up to the curb outside of the house Mary and John lived in. They paused only briefly to take note that the lights were on before Dean and Sam climbed out of the front and Alex ducked out of the back. Sam eagerly started for the house, but Dean caught his arm, stopping him. Alex hovered behind, unsure if she wanted to go without them.

"Sam," Dean said, "wait, wait, wait, we can't just...go up there."

"That's exactly what we need to do," Sam protested, stopping to glare at his brother. "Anna could be here at any moment-"

"I'm with Winchester number one," Alex said. "We need a game plan, Sam. What are you going to tell them?"

"The truth," Sam said bluntly as if it was obvious.

"What, that their sons are back from the future to save them from an angel gone Terminator?" Dean said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He shook his head, making sure the gun at the small of his back was hidden. "Come on, those moveis aren't even out yet, Sam."

"Because a few bloody movies are what we need to be thinking about right now," Alex muttered under her breath. "She knows you, right, Dean?"

He nodded curtly. "As the one who disappeared right when her dad died. She's gonna love me," he said bitterly, annoyed. He sighed heavily, thought it over, and then squared his shoulders and gestured for them to follow him. "Just...follow my lead, okay?" He pushed past Sam, and Alex and Sam exchanged quick looks before hurrying after him, worried about what the night would bring.

It took Dean a minute to convince himself to push the doorbell when they reached the front porch, and when he did, they sat there, waiting. Alex's ears picked up the hush of voices and then footsteps. "Someone's coming," she said quietly and the two men prepared themselves to face whoever answered the door.

Alex studied the woman who answered closely, taking in her blonde hair and pretty face. She was shorter than Dean and Sam, and there was very little about her appearance that actually fit in with theirs, but she could see the relation. The shape of her face was like Sam's, the way her eyes crinkled up as she stared at them in surprise like Dean. Both of them shared her mouth.

"Hi, Mary," Dean said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Her face went white, dark eyes - matching Sam's - filling with wariness. "Y-you can't be here."

"I'm sorry if this is a bad time," Dean began, but she shook her head, cutting in, not even seeming to notice Sam and Alex behind him.

"You don't understand," Mary said anxiously, finally taking note of the way Sam was staring at her, with awe in his eyes. Her gaze shifted to Alex, barely batting an eye at the scars she supported, at how the shadows made them worse than they usually were. "I...I'm not...I don't do that anymore. I have a normal life now." She moved to close the door, shaking her head. Her blonde locks tumbled around her face. "You have to go-"

"I'm sorry," Dean said, stopping the door. His voice was gentle. "This is important - really important. Okay?"

Mary said nothing, only jumped when the door suddenly swung open wider and a man appeared. Alex assumed him to be John, recognizing several features from her companions in him as well. Dean didn't look as pleased to see John. Nor did Sam, Alex noted. John Winchester cleared his throat, a beer in his hand, trying to awkwardly not look at Alex's face.

"Sorry, sweetie," Mary said faintly, looking up at him and then back at the three before her. She faltered, unsure of what to think of Alex. "They're just-"

"Mary's cousins," Alex said smoothly in her best American accent, deciding that her normal tone of voice wouldn't be helpful. Dean twitched, as if trying to not snort. Mary stared at her, smiling awkwardly. "We couldn't stop in town and just not swing by and say hello, now could we?" She felt Sam touch her arm in approval and smiled brightly, showing her white teeth innocently. She extended her hand to John delicately, stepping around Dean. She'd decided it best not to leave such matters to him. "Alexandriana, but you can and will call me Alex. These are Dean and Sam."

"I'm John," John said in response, frowning over her head at Sam as he shook her hand firmly. "Sam...Mary's father was a Sam."

Sam smiled faintly and offered his own hand to shake, shaken when John took it with a hesitant smile. "It's a...it's a, uh, family name."

"You okay, pal?" John said lightly, studying him. "You look a little spooked-"

"Yeah," Sam said hastily, dropping his hand. "Just...just a long trip."

Mary chimed in, hastily gripping Alex's shoulders without a hint of fear and pushing her back gently. Alex wasn't at all upset or offended; she understood the desperation to get people who brought hell to her life out of it. "Well, they were just on their way out-"

"What?" John said in surprise. "They just got here, Mary. I'm real happy to meet folks from Mary's side," he added to the trio before them. "Please, come on in for a beer."

"It'd be our pleasure," Alex said, ignoring the glare she received from Mary for the words. They ducked in and were guided into the living room. John smiled at them kindly and went to go fetch some beers for them from the kitchen. Mary jabbed fingers grouchily in directions on where they could sit, not saying a word. Alex perched on the floor, sitting near Sam, who was simply staring at the other woman in shock. She elbowed his knee, but he didn't seem to notice as Dean took the couch beside him.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sam?" John asked as he came into the living room, passing out beers with ease. Alex murmured a gentle word of gratitude when she took hers. Dean said nothing, but Sam nodded.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, voice hoarse. He stammered in addition to that after a moment, addressing Mary, "Um, I just...you're beautiful." John leaned forward, looking a little unhappy about that.

"He means that in a non-weird, wholesome, family kind of way," Dean said hastily and Sam nodded, waving at Dean quickly to ensure that it was what he meant. "We haven't seen Mary in...in quite some time, and...well, see, she's the spitting image of our mom."

Alex choked on her beer, coughing a little, and Dean sent her a glare for it, not pleased with her smirk. John arched a brow, gaze drifting back and forth between the pair for a moment. "So...how are you guys related?"

"You know, distantly," Alex said lazily, waving at nothing in particular. She flashed them another smile, proud of herself. She was quite good at this lying thing, she liked to think. "We knew Mary's parents. Her father was like a grandfather to us." She drew up a miserable expression, looking quite mournful. "We miss him a lot."

"That was tragic," John admitted, looking to Mary and taking his wife's hand. She had a stony expression. Dean was giving Alex another dark look, Sam looking at her with discomfort. "That heart attack…" He shook his head and Mary looked away, eyes drifting elsewhere to avoid looking at the group of people before her. "So, uh, what are you guys doing in town anyway?"

"Business," Dean said carefully. When John asked what kind, he lied, "Scrap metal. Right, Sam?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed, grimacing. "Scrap metal."

Mary suddenly stood, losing her patience. Alex snorted to herself. She looked like her eldest son when he lost his own patience about something or another. "Oh, goodness," she said and Alex detected hints of sarcasm deep in her voice. "It's almost seven. I hate to be rude, but I must get dinner ready."

"Maybe they could stay," John suggested.

Mary looked devastated with her husband's reluctance to let her shoo these strangers from her house. "I'm sure they have to leave."

The phone rang and John climbed to his feet, sighing in annoyance at the loud ringing sound. Ignoring his wife's desperation, he said kindly to the trio of hunters, "Look, please stay. It would mean a lot to me. I haven't met much of Mary's side of the family. Now, if you'll excuse me…" He slid out of the living room after lovingly patting his wife's shoulder, looking worried about something he said nothing about.

Mary waited until he'd left the room. And then she exploded, her face drawn into a scowl and her hands curled into fists as she snapped at them, "You have to leave. _Now._ " Dean tried to interrupt, asking her to listen, but she cut him off. "No, _you_ listen. Last time I saw you, a demon killed my parents. Now you waltz in here and act like you're family?" Dean and Sam flinched at that and Alex felt a stab of sympathy. "Whatever you want? No. Leave me alone."

It was Sam who spoke now, his voice tentative and quiet. He looked at Mary with big round puppy-like eyes that Alex had seen in action before, and she rolled her own. "You and John are in danger." Mary scoffed, and he insisted, "Something's coming for you."

She studied him, took in the seriousness that the others were expressing. "What are you talking about?"

"An angel," Alex said calmly. "It's coming for you. Well, she, to be more precise."

Mary threw her head back and laughed. "What? There's no such thing."

"I wish," Dean scoffed. "But they're twice as strong as demons, and bigger dicks."

Their mother looked between them all in puzzlement. "Why...why would an angel want to kill us?"

"It's a long story, Mrs. Winchester," Alex said kindly, her eyes twinkling with sympathy as she climbed to her feet. "And we'll tell you the whole thing eventually, but right now, I ask that you trust us. We have to leave." When Mary desperately asked where they were supposed to go, Alex said calmly, "Anywhere. But we have to move now."

"Okay," Mary said reluctantly, sighing heavily. "But...what do I tell John? He doesn't...he doesn't know about any of it."

"Actually," Sam said, finally seeming to clear his mind as he stood, stepping past them all to head for the kitchen. "Where is he?" Mary trailed after him, suddenly worried, and he called, "John?"

Mary was the one who found the note. She studied it, read it aloud, and then looked back to the children she didn't know were hers and Alex, face full of distress.

 _Back in fifteen. J._

* * *

Mary was still looking suspiciously at Alex as she led them towards a large garage - one that, according to Mary, John worked at. Alex had taken one whiff and started them on the trail, just from the car, and she'd known that she wasn't human, although they'd not told her just what Alex was exactly. _"She's trusty."_ Dean had surprised Alex by reassuring Mary. _"She's saved Sam and my asses more than you'd think."_

Alex didn't blame the woman. She'd been a hunter before meeting John. And look how long it had taken her to get as far as she had with the Winchester brothers. They ducked into the garage, Alex removing her knife from its hiding place. Dean flexed his fingers around Castiel's angel blade, wishing that the angel himself were there to help them.

"Sh," Alex breathed, putting a finger to her lips.

Voices, trickling from the cracked door in which cars were driven through. She nodded. They were in there.

Sam exchanged a quick look with Dean and then said in a very hushed tone, "Mary, stay with Alex. Dean, you go under the garage door. I'll try the back. Alex, you and Mary take the side door."

"Done," Alex said, letting her accent slip, and Mary looked at her even more suspiciously, worried about who the hell these men were leaving her with. But Alex payed her little attention, simply gesturing for her to keep close, saying in a low voice with a wink as they went their separate ways, "This blade kills just about everything, Mary. I've got your back."

"Why? You're not even human."

"Maybe, it doesn't mean I'm not a good person though," Alex pointed out and then jumped when there was a loud crash. "Okay, let's go," she said, darting forward. Mary was hot on her trail, pausing only when they heard voices raised in shouts.

They ducked inside just in time to see Anna fling John over a car that resided within the garage, her red hair wild around her face and her eyes blazing. Mary gasped as Anna suddeny spun around, just barely catching Dean's wrist when he went to drive Castiel's blade into her back. Her other hand gripped his neck and Dean swore, free hand trying to pry it off. Anna knocked aside his weapon, sending it skittering to the ground. "I wish I could say it's good to see you, Anna," he said hoarsely around her hand strangling him.

She gave a tight smile. "You, too, Dean," she said softly, and Alex growled low in her throat when Mary lurched forward. Mary fearlessly snatched up the dropped angel blade, spinning it in her hand expertly and advancing towards the angel who held Dean by the throat. As she did, Anna turned and hurled Alex moved after her, growling low in her throat, and Anna cast the weapons they held wary looks. Alex distantly heard John groan softly behind her as Mary slashed at Anna, her face full of deadly intent.

Anna avoided the strike and disappeared when Mary tried again. When Mary whirled around in a blonde blur, Anna caught her wrist with ease, looking almost sad as she said, "I'm sorry." Mary had a moment to look confused before Anna had thrown Mary at the car. She slammed into the windshield, sliding off awkwardly with a gasp.

Alex snarled, catching Anna's attention. She lunged, aware that this probably wasn't the smartest method. Anna spun out of the way, lips pressed into a line. Alex liked to think she upped the difficulty. Anna still had the upper hand, however, narrowly avoiding Alex's knife - until Mary suddenly caught her as she was turning to avoid a blow, slamming a crowbar through Anna's chest.

Everyone fell still. Alex heaved for air, wondering where Dean had gone and where Sam was, staring at Anna. Mary stared, too, as Anna calmly pulled the crowbar, slicked with her blood, out of her chest and dropped it to the cement floor with a clatter. "Sorry," Anna said calmly, "it's not that easy to kill an angel."

"No," came Sam's voice from behind them, sounding proud. "But you can distract them." Anna turned her head and caught sight of the youngest Winchester standing before a sigil just a second before he pressed his bloody palm to it, sending a blinding flash of light throughout the garage. Anna vanished, and everyone stilled. Mary caught her breath slowly, and then stilled.

John stared at his wife in shocked horror. "Mary?"

Mary uttered a soft swear under her breath.

* * *

Alex couldn't say she wasn't happy to find herself back in the Impala, although the speed at which was going made her nervous. She was squished into the backseat between Sam, who was trying to awkwardly fix his long legs while sitting behind the stone-faced John, and Dean, who was grimacing at a headache and trying to keep himself from joining in on the argument that had erupted between his unknowing parents.

"Monsters," John was saying as he turned onto a street that Mary turned him to turn onto. " _Monsters_?" She nodded curtly. "Monsters are real. And...and you fight them. All of you?" Sam nodded, and Mary hesitated.

"All my life," she said softly. "John, just try to understand-"

"She didn't exactly have a choice," Dean tried to input, but John cut him off with a sharply snarled, "Shut up, all of you! Not another word or so help me, I will turn this car around."

They all fell silent, remaining that way until, after some quiet instructions from Mary, they made it to a house that Alex eyed warily. She could practically _smell_ the silver coming from the house and wondered if some kind of powder had been laid into the walls. As they all clambered out of the Impala, Sam kind enough to help her out.

They headed inside, John hanging back a little with a cranky look on his face - not that any of them could blame him. Alex thought she would have been cranky, too, if she'd realized that her world had been tipped upside down and her wife was lying to her the entirety of their marriage.

"The place has been in the family for years." Mary spoke as they entered the house. She flipped on a set of lights, grimacing at the dust. She nudged a carpet covering the area before the front door. "Devil's trap...pure iron fixtures, of course. Silverware is literally silver, and the mirrors are all backed with it. There should be salt and holy water in the pantry. Knives and guns in the cabinet in the living room." Alex flinched. She could _feel_ the silver. It hurt her like hell.

"That won't do any good, it'll just piss it off," Sam informed her.

"So what will kill it?" she asked desperately. "Or slow it down at least?"

"Not much," Alex informed her gently. When Mary laughed bitterly, she held her hand up. "I said not much, not nothing. We packed." To prove her point, Dean slammed the duffel bag from Castiel down on the dining room table after meandering his way into the dining room.

"If we put this up," Dean said calmly, removing a piece of paper that they'd drawn on the way to find the Winchesters earlier in the evening. It held an angel-banishing sigil, the very one Sam had made on the wall of the garage. "And she comes close, we beam her right off the starship."

Mary said nothing, looking somewhat confused by Dean's explanation, so Sam pushed on, ignoring him. "This is holy oil," he said, withdrawing the jar that Castiel had packed. "It's like a devil's trap for angels. Come on, I'll show you." Without waiting, he started for the door they'd just come through. Mary followed after a moment, glancing briefly at her husband.

"What's the deal with the thing on the paper?" John suddenly asked, sounding bad-tempered.

"It's a sigil," Alex began. "That means-"

"I don't give a damn what it means," John snapped at her, looking mean enough that she withdrew, startled. "Where does it go?"

"Watch it," Dean said warningly, surprising Alex. She scowled a little; she could handle herself just fine. "On a wall or door. John-"

"How big should I make it?" When Dean looked at him in surprise, John rolled his eyes and spat, "What? You might have treated me like a fool, but I'm not useless. I can draw a damn - a damn sigil." He snatched the paper up from where Dean had set it.

Alex exchanged a look with Dean, who looked wary. "Mr. Winchester," she said, addressing John politely despite the scowl he sent her way. "Why don't you help Sam? This has to be done with blood on a wall."

John looked her in the eye, not seeming unnerved by the piercing look she was giving him as he picked up the knife that Dean had set on the table, unsheathed it, and slid the blade over his palm so that it was sliced open, blood pooling and dripping to the floor. They stared at him. And then Dean laughed quietly, waving for him to follow. "I'll show you. You, uh, you really remind me of my dad."

Alex, alone when they'd left the room, removed her blade and gave it a long look over, wishing that Castiel was there to help them. She shook her head, and then put her blade away, intending to grab some salt. Maybe the angels weren't able to be stopped by the salt, but demons were still out and about and she would sure as hell put a stop to that.

She quietly lined each window and door that led to the outside with table salt, humming under her breath as she did. And when that was done, she grabbed some paint that she found in the closet and went to work on painting a variety of devil's traps around the house, knowing that there were likely some all ready, but wanting to be safe.

She was in the middle of a floor on her knees, the carpet cut away and paint splattering her hands, when someone cleared their throat and brought her attention away from her work. She glanced up and found Dean awkwardly standing in the doorway. His green eyes skimmed the work she was doing as she sat back and asked quietly, "How are they doing?"

"Dad - well, uh, _John_ is still...pissed." Dean shoved his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight. "Mom's doing surprisingly well. I think we're going to need to tell her soon though. The truth."

Alex pushed her hair out of her eyes, aware of her paint-flecked hands. "That's up to you. I'm not...they're not my parents." She'd thought about that. Her own parents would be alive in this year. Maybe even her brother, although she wasn't sure. She could have stopped in, said hi, confused the hell out of them. But they had things to do and they were far, far away in another country while Alex was smack dab in the middle of the States.

Alex finished her devil's trap and put the brush she'd been using back in the paint can. "Are you doing okay?" she suddenly asked, standing and lifting the can with her. She didn't bother to join him at the door, standing there with her hand on her hip.

"Yeah," he said. He ran a hand through his hair, pressing his lips together. "I think so."

"Good." She strode across the room, brushing past him. She paused only to pat him almost playfully on the chest, earning a glare when she left flecks of red paint on his shirt. "Come on, I want to go check on Mrs. Winchester. I quite like her. She's got fire in her soul and a head on her shoulders that screwed on right. I like her."

Dean rolled his eyes, but followed her down the stairs, muttering that Mary was putting some holy oil circles in front of the doors. Alex left the paint on the table, following Dean to where Mary was working. She glanced up, hearing them approach, and then sat up, still holding the jar. "Okay," Mary said quietly, warily. "You said you'd explain everything when we had a minute. We have a minute." Alex decided then and there that Dean had been right; he and Sam would have to tell the blonde woman the truth. "Why does an angel want me dead? I didn't even know they existed, and now I'm a target?"

"It's complicated," Dean began, looking reluctant.

"Fine," Mary said confidently, standing up swiftly. "I'm all ears." When Dean still hesitated, she threatened, "If you don't tell me, Dean, I'm walking out this door."

Alex tensed a little. She had no doubt that she would.

Dean watched her, mouth firmly clamped shut, but the second Mary turned to open the door, he said hoarsely, "I'm your son." She stilled, slowly turning to stare at him. He grimaced, repeating a little more firmly, "I'm your son. I'm sorry, I don't know how else to say it. We're from the year two-thousand-ten...an angel brought us here. Not the one that attacked you. A friend."

"You can't expect me to believe that," Mary breathed, her eyes wide with shock.

"Our names are Dean and Sam Winchester," Dean said, sounding miserable. Alex touched his arm in a silent show of comfort. "We're named after your parents. When I would get sick, you would make me tomato-rice soup, because that's what your mom made you. And instead of a lullaby, you...you would sing 'Hey Jude' because that's your favorite Beatles song."

Mary put a hand over her mouth, tears rising and falling from her eyes. "I don't...no, no, that's not...that can't be true. That can't be true. I raised my...I raised my children to be hunters?" The very idea, when she'd tried so hard to leave that life behind- "How could I do that to you?"

Alex's heart ached for them when Dean shook his head. "You didn't do it, because you're dead," he said, voice thick with emotion. Mary's mouth opened, closed, and remained shut as she stared at him, crying in silence. "The yellow-eyed demon, he killed you and-" Dean glanced at Alex. Understanding what he was asking - that no one was listening, in particular John - she nodded quickly. He was safe. But she could hear footsteps approaching and a deep inhale told her it was only Sam - safe. Dean was safe to speak. "John became a hunter to get revenge. He raised us in this life. Listen to me," he said, voice sharpening so she'd pay attention. "A demon comes into Sam's nursery exactly six months after he's born on the second of November, nineteen-eighty-three. Remember that date. And whatever you do, do not go in there. You wake up that morning and you...you take Sam, and you _run_."

"That's not good enough, Dean," Sam said from where he'd come to stand in the doorway. Dean jumped a little, and both he and Mary turned to look at him. Alex said nothing. "Wherever she goes, the demon is going to find her and it's going to find me."

"Well, then what?" Dean said crossly.

"She can leave Dad." Sam's suggestion had Alex's head snapping around. "She can leave John. When this is all over - when what's happening with Anna ends...you walk away and you never look back."

"So we're never born," Dean realized and Alex began to bristle. She didn't want that.

She didn't want that all.

If they were never born - she'd still be alone. She'd have never met them, or Castiel, or Bobby, or Ellen, or Jo, or Avery-

She'd still be running around hunting things on her own. Actually, she'd probably be dead by now, her corpse half-rotten in the middle of some trees. Her fingers curled into fists. Maybe John and Mary would be alive, maybe even Matt and his family, but the idea of not meeting these two idiots before her…

She growled low in her throat and the sound drew a nervous look from Mary, even as Mary said softly, "I...I can't. You're saying that you're my children, and now you're saying-"

"You have no other choice," Dean said, shooting Alex a look that she returned full-heartedly. "There's a big difference between dying and never being born. And trust me. We're okay with it. Both of us."

"Well," Mary said hoarsely, "I'm not."

"Listen," Sam input gently, stepping closer. "You think you can have that normal life that you want so bad...but you can't. I'm sorry. We've all tried at some point or another and when you're a hunter, you don't just leave the life. It's all going to go rotten and you're going to die, and your children will be cursed. This...this is the way. Leave him. Leave John." She shook her head. "This is bigger than us. There are so many more lives at stake-"

"You don't understand," Mary suddenly cried, her face slicked with her tears as she looked between them. "I _can't_. It's too late." A sob bubbled out of her, her hands coming to cover her eyes. "I'm pregnant."

They stilled, staring, and Alex had a moment to realize that there was a tiny little Dean growing within Mary before John suddenly ducked in. He paused, looking between them curiously before saying seriously, "We've got a problem. Those blood things, the sigils - they're gone. I drew one on the back of the door and turned around. When I looked back again, it was a smudge."

Mary's eyes widened as she looked at her husband and then she whirled around and checked her holy oil circle. Her face paled. "There's no more holy oil," she said hoarsely, staring at the empty container.

"Bloody hell," Alex swore, flinching suddenly. They looked to her when she dropped into a crouch, hands smashed over her ears. Sam found the angel blade where he'd placed it, slipped it into the inside of the flannel he'd pulled over a T-shirt that morning, and then winced as a high-pitched noise began to fill the air. Dean looked grim as it grew louder and louder, recognizing what it was and before long, they were all covering their ears. There was a loud crash. The lights flickered and then went out as the lights shattered with the windows. The room turned black.

And then, suddenly, it was gone. Alex looked up, dazed, when she heard the sound of fluttering wings over the ringing in her ears. A growl thundered in her throat, drawing the others' attention to her. "Who the bloody hell are you?" she barked.

The angel's eyes shifted from Dean and Sam to her. "I am Uriel," he said.

Dean swore and Sam spun around, urging everyone to go, but was cut off when he saw Anna blocking the other way out of the room. Dean sighed heavily, realizing he didn't have a weapon to fight an angel with, and settled down, ready to fight no matter what he had to do. Sam leveled the blade at Anna and Alex withdrew her own, growling low in her throat again.

And then she lurched for Uriel. Dean kept his feet planted firmly beside John and Mary, who stared in horror, and Sam went for Anna, the blade flashing in the short amount of light that was coming in through the window.

Uriel met Alex head on, smirking almost when he swerved to avoid a smooth movement to drive the blade home. She switched her direction of movement, ducking to avoid him when he tried to grab her, intent on throwing her across the room. All it would take was her in the wrong place and he'd have what he wanted. Across the room, Sam was thrown aside by Anna almost effortlessly. Somewhat embarrassed, he began climbing to his feet, shaking off the dull pain in his body.

Dean went to step forward, intending to grab the knife and take a turn, but was distracted when Alex suddenly yelped. Urie had grabbed her arm and with a very rough movement, sent her flying. She hit the ground hard on her back, wheezing when the breath was driven from her, and then Uriel was on him, looking delighted that the fight was going better than he'd planned. Dean knew he didn't have a chance without the knife in his hand - either knife, actually, for Alex's rested on the floor uselessly beside her head, the pointed end only a few inches from her cheek.

He hit the ground almost immediately, head snapping around when Mary screamed John's name. John had disappeared, he realized. Thrown through the wall and into the yard behind the house. As he got up, Uriel between them, Dean caught sight of Sam scrambling for the blade that John had taken up, determined. He was interrupted, however, when Anna suddenly slammed a fixture she'd ripped from the wall into him, stabbing him brutally and with a triumphant look in her eyes, though there was also sadness.

"Sammy!" Dean bellowed in horror.

Sam grappled weakly at the fixture, looking somewhat stunned before his fingers fell away and he slumped. Alex shoved herself to her feet, her fingers curling around her blade. She darted past Uriel, slamming onto her knees beside the youngest Winchester as Anna turned to Mary, saying mournfully, "I'm really sorry."

"Sam," Alex rasped, checking his pulse. Her jaw clenched when she found none.

"Anna."

The deep voice had her stilling, looking up. Dean froze, as did Uriel. They all turned to look at the man who had appeared, his face set in a grim look. Mary wept on the floor, staring up at John through her tears. He stepped past her as if he didn't recognize her, coming to stand before Anna. "Anna," he repeated, studying her closely.

"Michael," she breathed and something in Dean's chest chilled as he stared at his father - at the angel who wanted to ride him all the way to the apocalypse. That chill became outright fear when Michael put a hand on Anna's shoulder and she burst into flames. Anna's screams filled the room; Mary stared at John - at Michael - in horror, shivering on the floor. Alex tensed, not daring to leave Sam's side as Michael turned to Uriel.

Uriel was clearly shocked and anxious. "Michael," he began. "I didn't know-"

"Goodbye, Uriel," Michael responded, snapping his fingers. Uriel disappeared. And then, he turned on Mary. Dean made a sound low in his throat as Mary sobbed.

"What did you do to John?" she demanded through her tears, somehow managing to look fierce despite her clear terror.

"John is fine," Michael said calmly, bending towards her. When she tried to speak again, Michael shushed her, touching her forehead gently. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious, and flicked his eyes thoughtfully towards Alex, taking in the blade she held with interest before turning his back on her. She was nothing for the time being.

Alex was fine with that.

"Well," Michael said, inclining his head calmly towards Dean. "I'd say this conversation is long overdue, wouldn't you?"

"Fix him," Dean demanded without responding to his statement, pointing at his brother.

Michael's gaze flicked over Alex and Sam before returning to Dean. "First we talk, and then I will fix your darling little Sammy."

"How'd you get in my dad, anyway?" Dean's voice bitter. He hadn't expected that John Winchester would agree to allow an angel to possess him. Then again...he'd sold his soul for Dean's life. "I thought I was your 'one and only vessel.'"

"I told him I could save his wife; he said yes," Michael said dismissively. "And you are my true vessel, but not my only one. It is a bloodline. Stretching back to Cain and Abel, it is in your blood, your father's blood, your family's blood."

"Awesome," Dean said, scowling. "What do you want with me? You know I ain't gonna say yes, so why are you here? What do you want with me?"

"I just want you to understand what you and I have to do," Michael began, shooting a chilling look over his shoulder when Alex snorted, giving a bitter laugh under her breath. She fell quiet. "Lucifer defied our father, and he betrayed me. But...I don't want this any more than you would want to kill Sam." Dean's jaw set in a harsh look. _Would_ want? They were trying to force him into that anyways, no matter what he wanted. "You know, my brother...I practically raised him. I took care of him in a way most people could never understand, and I still love him. But I am going to kill him. Because it's right and I have to."

"Oh, because God says so?" Dean said sarcastically, eyeing Michael suspiciously.

"Yes," Michael replied confidently. "From the beginning, he knew this was how it was going to end. And I will ensure that it happens - because I am a good son." Dean shook his head, smiling bitterly. "You think you know better than my father? One unimportant little man...what makes you think you get to choose?"

Alex, watching all of this, snorted loudly, lining her blade up with her arm and watching as it disappeared. Michael glowered at her, but she looked him in the eye and growled, "'One unimportant little man?' For someone you claim to be unimportant, you arses sure don't know how to make it seem that way."

Michael's eyes narrowed and Alex growled - and then the sound was cut off. She scowled, entirely silent, when he turned back to Dean again. Dean glanced her way, noting that she was fine. Better than Sam, at least, although she looked fairly pissed off. "I get to choose what I can do with my unimportant little life."

"You're wrong. You know how I know?" Michael turned his face towards Mary, studying her. "Think of a million random acts of chance that let John and Mary be born, to meet, to fall in love, to have the two of you. Think of the million random choices that you make, and yet how each and every one of them brings you closer to your destiny. Do you know why that is?" Dean said nothing, his gaze darting between Michael and Sam. "Because it's not random. It's not chance. It's a plan that is playing itself out. Free will...it is nothing but an illusion, Dean. That's why you're going to say yes." Dean's eyes flickered with hatred and he snorted, surprising them with such a human action. "It could be worse. You know, unlike my brothers, I won't leave you a drooling mess when I'm done wearing you."

Dean said nothing about the matter. In fact, the only thing he said was a quiet, "What about my dad?"

"Better than new." Michael looked down at himself, thoughtful. "In fact, I'm gonna do your mom and your dad a favor. I'll scrub their minds. They won't remember me or you." Dean began shaking his head, but Michael only smiled. "I'm giving your mother what she wants. She can go back to her husband, her family-"

"She's gonna walk right into that nursery!" Dean retorted, bristling.

Michael didn't look the least bit concerned as he turned away. "Obviously. You always knew that it was going to play out one way or another." He strode over to where Sam was lying dead on the floor and Alex growled, the sound the only one she could make. She glared viciously at him. "Don't think I've forgotten you and that blade of yours," Michael nearly crooned. He touched his fingers to Sam's forehead and Sam disappeared, the piece of metal that had remained in him clattering to the cement floor. Alex bared her teeth at Michael when his gaze turned on her. "Where did you find it?"

"What is it to you?" she snarled, finding she could speak again.

"That blade," he said, seeming aware that he had the attention of Dean as well, "is a weapon that should have been in Heaven's vaults."

"Well I found it in the middle of nowhere, so it's mine now," Alex retorted, snapping her teeth as if she were in her canine form.

"Mm, for now, perhaps," Michael mused. "A weapon created by Abel and blessed by Lucifer himself does not belong in the hands of something as disgustingly low as a skinwalker." Alex stilled; _that_ was why Lucifer had seemed so interested in it, too? She tightened her shoulders, tensed as he reached for her forehead. She disappeared, likely back to where Sam had gone. And then Michael was in front of Dean, who reeled back. "Your turn," he said, reaching. "I'll see you soon, Dean Winchester."

And then Dean was gone, leaving Michael alone in John's body, looking down upon Mary.

* * *

"Thanks," Alex muttered, mind racing as Sam handed her a plastic cup full of whiskey. She eagerly took deep drink, watching as Dean poured a cup for himself after ensuring that Sam had one, too. She couldn't think of anything but what Michael had said about her blade, about everything. Dean hadn't said anything just yet, but she was sure he would soon enough. So, she opened her mouth to do it herself.

But she was cut off when Castiel appeared in the middle of the room, just behind Sam. She shot to her feet just as Dean did, Sam turning when he realized that they were surprised by something he wasn't seeing. Castiel had an instant before he suddenly crumpled, grunting. Sam lurched forward just barely grabbing him before he toppled.

"Cas!" Alex breathed, relieved and worried. She came to help, pulling an arm over her shoulder. He was heavy, even for her.

"You son of a bitch," Dean said, going to grab some paper towels from the table as blood began dripping from the angel's nose again. "You made it."

"I...I did?" Castiel looked shocked, looking between Sam and Alex for a moment. "I'm very surprised." And then he collapsed again, this time unconscious.

"Dean!" Alex yelped when most of his weight somehow ended up on her. He jumped in and between the three of them, they got the heavy angel to the nearest bed. Alex made sure he was situated comfortably as Sam and Dean panted softly for breath before looking at one another.

"I could use that drink now," Dean said and Sam agreed. They went to grab their cups, Sam being so kind enough as to pour Alex a new one - she'd dumped her own all over the floor when she'd sprang up to help Castiel. After a moment of silence in which they fell into their own thoughts, broken only by Alex's word of gratitude as she took her fresh cup, Dean said, "Team Free Will." They looked to him, confused. "One ex-blood junkie, one dropout with six bucks to his name, one freak of nature with pointy teeth, and Mr. Comatose over there. It's awesome."

"It's not funny," Sam said grumpily.

Alex snorted quietly and took another drink. "No one's laughing," she muttered. She thought it over and then added, "Everyone thinks you'll say yes. Both of you."

Dean retorted, "It's getting annoying."

"What if they're right though?" Sam asked softly, setting his cup down. "I mean, why would we? Either of us? We say we wouldn't. We don't want to. But...I've been weak before." Both Alex and Dean opened their mouths to protest, but Sam said pointedly, "Michael got Dad to say yes."

"That was different," Alex informed him. "Anna was about to kill your mother."

"And what do we do if they try the same tactic on us?" he said pointedly. "What if they threaten to kill you, or Bobby, or Cas, or either of us?"

Alex could say nothing in return, only feel somewhat touched that she was the first in that list of people Sam was worried about.

* * *

 _And the reveal of the truth behind Alex's blade. ;) Originally, I was going to make it a specialized angel blade or even Lucifer's own blade, but this seemed much better._

 _Thanks to the lovely Hey there for their review as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	41. My Bloody Valentine

The Impala was a peaceful, quiet place as it raced down an interstate in the middle of nowhere. It was dark out, the stars dotting the sky above their heads. In the front driver seat, Dean was nodding his head along to the beat of a song he'd put on at a very low volume. Sam was dozing in the passenger seat, half-thinking about the job they were heading towards after giving themselves a day of rest to get over everything that had happened with his parents and the angels. And Alex was in the back seat, forgoing a seatbelt in favor of curling up in a ball against the door, her head resting against the window and her blue eyes lazily following shadows.

 _A blade forged by Abel and blessed by Lucifer,_ she thought to herself, running her fingers up and down the inside of her arm. She'd filled Sam in on that part of the conversation earlier that morning and he'd buried himself in research on his phone as they'd drove, trying to find out what he could but came up with nothing. She'd not been surprised.

In addition to her thoughts about the blade, she considered what to do about Barachiel's request: a piece of Castiel's jacket. She'd not said anything about it to the angel before he'd disappeared, feeling much better now that he wasn't traveling around in time. Alex tapped her fingers on her thigh after dropping them away from her arm, pressing her lips together.

Why could things never be easy?

"Hey." She glanced up at the sound of Dean's voice. He spoke lowly so he didn't wake up Sam, who'd fallen asleep entirely as she thought over her problems and realizations. "What do you think of this case?"

She wrinkled her nose, surprised he'd realized she was still awake. Alex sat up a little, turning her face to him. "It's odd," she admitted. "I mean, we've seen a lot of things. But people eating each other to death? It's...bloody hell, I've never seen anything like _that_."

Dean nodded slowly. She got the feeling it wasn't what he'd really wanted to ask. After a long moment, she leaned her head back against the window rather than trying to pry answers out of him.

Slowly, after some time, her eyes began to slide shut.

Before long, she was sleeping, and Dean was the only one awake in the car. The eldest Winchester grumbled about the matter and decided that the day they arrived into town for the case they were dealing with, he'd be sleeping in and they'd be doing most of the work.

* * *

"So...you were the one who found the bodies?"

Alex's gaze flickered between Sam, who'd asked the question, and the woman before them. There was a tissue in her hand. Her face was blotchy from crying and she kept looking at Alex and looking away. It as agitating the skinwalker; she knew her face was a mess, but at least she wasn't constantly crying. It had sent Alex away at first, while Sam questioned her, to sniff around and check for anything that might identify what they were dealing with. But that had been finished way too quickly and it was because of it that she found herself back where she'd started.

"There was blood everywhere…" The woman who was the dead woman's roommate shuddered. "And...and other stuff. I think Alice was already dead."

"But not the other one?" Alex asked, narrowing her blue eyes.

"He was mostly, I think." She shuddered. "He was still sort of...chewing a little." Alex and Sam both grimaced in disgust as the roommate continued, shaken. "How do two people even do that? Eat each other to death?"

"That's a really good question," Sam said gently. Alex envied his ability to empathize with every person they came across. "Now, the last few days...did you notice her acting erratically? Did she seem...unusually hostile or aggressive?"

"No way," the roommate gasped. "Alice _never_ drank, never even swore! She was a nice girl. And I'm talking like...like a nice girl, like she still had her promise ring if you know what I mean."

"Was she a virgin?" Alex asked quite bluntly, raking her brain for what they might be dealing with.

"No premarital," the woman answered, shaking her head. "I used to wonder how she did it. Well, I mean, you know, didn't do it. It was her first date in months...she was so excited." Her gaze saddened and Sam nodded to himself, making note of this in a little notepad he had. "She was so, so happy…"

They finished the interview up fairly quickly after that and as they left, Alex ran her fingers along the inside of her forearm, thinking. "This is a weird case," she said. "A very, very weird case, Sam, and I'm not sure how I feel about it."

"Me neither," Sam admitted. He ran a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck. "You hungry?" he added as they swung into the Impala, the younger Winchester smirking a little after passing the keys to the delighted skinwalker.

"Yes," she said cheerfully, wondering how either of them could be hungry after that interview. "Shall we get some food?" Sam offered her a grin and Alex returned it before starting the car.

They didn't take long, stopping at a McDonald's drive-through, and were climbing out of the Impala in no time, Alex tossing the keys back to Sam so he could pocket them, both not willing to let Dena know that she'd driven without his permission. Yet, Alex thought about throttling Dean as she and Sam stepped into the motel room they'd rented for the time being. Sam balanced two bags of food and a tray of drinks in one hand, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw his brother blearily scrambling out of bed after taking a nap. Alex didn't entirely blame him, no matter how annoyed she was; he'd done most of the driving, no matter how much she and Sam had offered to take a turn. And she supposed he _had_ gone to the coroner's despite being so tired.

"How'd it go?" Dean asked with a yawn, eyeing the bags of food with eagerness.

Alex's lips quirked a little as she closed the door and went to help Sam, taking the tray of drinks. "Not ghost or demonic possession. I took a good look around and there were no signs of either."

Dean huffed. "Damn, that's where I was puttin' my money." He came to join them at the little motel table, rubbing one of his eyes like a sleepy child. Suddenly, however, he gasped, "You should have seen the bodies. I mean, these two started eating and...and they just...kept going. Their stomachs were full. Thanksgiving dinner full. Talk about co-dependent."

"Well," Sam said slowly, "we've got our feelers out and there's not much more we can do tonight. All right, I'm just gonna go through some files, do some research." He waited until Alex was done sorting food to grab a thing of fries, popping a few into his mouth. He nodded at his brother. "You can go ahead and get going."

Dean faltered, confused, and Alex, too, looked puzzled. She looked between them curiously as Dean said, "Sorry?"

"Go ahead," Sam repeated. "Unleash the kraken. See you tomorrow morning." When Dean sputtered, still confused, he said quite bluntly, "Dean, it's Valentine's Day. Your favorite holiday, remember? I mean what do you always call it? The unattached drifter Christmas?"

Alex turned a deadly look onto the eldest Winchester, who suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Oh, yeah. Well, I, uh, I don't know. Guess I'm not feeling it this year."

Sam's brows lifted. Chewing on another fry, he said slowly, "You're not into bars full of lonely women?" Dean shrugged, taking a sip of the soda they'd brought him, and Sam narrowed his eyes. "That's...when a dog doesn't eat, that's when you know something's really wrong. So what's wrong?"

"Remarkably patronizing concern duly noted," Dean said sarcastically. "Nothing's wrong. We gonna work or what?" He dropped into a seat at the table, earning a still worried look from Sam and an approving nod from Alex, who took the other seat, leaving Sam to awkwardly stand there. Finally, Sam shook his head, grabbed his laptop, and went to sit on the bed.

As he did, Alex thoughtfully chewed on her food, thinking. Her blue eyes suddenly narrowed. "Lucifer knows." Dean and Sam both paused in what they were doing to look at her. "That I have the blade. What Michael said, about it being blessed by the devil...it explains a lot. I think it does, anyway." She lifted her chin. "Do you think he'll come after it?"

"Maybe it can kill him," Sam said slowly from the bed. "So hopefully he does."

"That's a big _maybe_ though," Alex replied warningly.

Dean nodded slowly, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward, focusing on her while Sam returned to his laptop. He took a deep breath and then admitted, "I don't think we'll know until he does or doesn't come after it." He reached for a burger, tearing into it full-heartedly. "There's a lot of things we won't know until things start falling into place, whether it be the way we want it to or the way we don't."

"True," Alex admitted. She ran a hand through her hair, noting that she needed to trim it up soon. She grimaced suddenly, her face screwing up in an odd look. "Sam, can I use your laptop?" She swiped crumbs from her fingers, glancing over her shoulder at him. He stopped typing and stared at her. "I want to look into it. The blade."

"You know two people just ate each other to death," Dean said casually, mouth full of burger. "Right?"

"Yes, but we can multi-task," she said with exaggerated patience. Dean glared at her for it. "Besides. If that blade can actually kill Lucifer...we might have just found our solution." She paused. "Too bad we couldn't get that close to him sooner." She couldn't help but think that if they had, Ellen and Jo would still be alive.

Sam sighed heavily and climbed to his feet. He handed over the laptop, drew out his phone, and then dropped back onto the bed he'd been sitting on to do his research on the phone instead. Silence fell, broken only by the occasional biting and chewing of food, and all three found that they were at peace.

* * *

The next morning brought a phone call that had them all rushing to get ready to head to the St. James Medical Center - which had another set of bodies for them to take a look at. _"Strange, the way they died,"_ the person on the phone had commented when Sam had called to warn them they were coming in.

They clambered out of the Impala with ease, Dean and Sam wearing suits and Alex in her canine form with a vest strapped on. It made people suspicious when they showed up in such a way, but Alex wanted to take a sniff of the bodies without looking weird. Or weirder than normal. They walked into the building and were greeted by a member of the hospital staff. One flash of a fake badge, and they were led down a hall, heading towards the morgue.

A man in a suit went by them and Sam suddenly faltered, studying the man closely. Alex felt his grip on the leash he held tighten briefly and she glanced up questioningly, woofing under her breath and earning a curious look from Dean. Dean followed her gaze and then asked, "Sam?"  
"I'm fine," he muttered, shaking his head to clear it.

"Agent Marley," a man called as the door to the morgue opened. He was older, with white hair that barely covered his balding head, as well as a white doctor's coat. "You just can't stay away."

Dean smiled tightly. "Heard you tagged another double suicide."

He nodded. "Just finished closing them up." He eyed Alex warily. Just to mess with him, she bared her teeth in a wolfish grin. He flinched. Not a dog-lover then, Alex mused to herself before glancing up at Dean when he gestured to Sam.

"Dr. Corman, this is my partner, Agent Cliff."

"Agent Cliff," Dr. Corman said, nodding in greeting. "I've finished my preliminaries. I pulled the organ sets and sent off the tox samples. Feel free to take a look at the bodies, both of you." He paused and then asked, "You're not bringing the dog in, are you?"

Alex rumbled under her breath, flattening her ears, and Sam rushed to say patiently, "We have to. We're participating in a trial for a new possible use of canines in the field. She's trained to signal if she smells anything that human noses or eyes can't catch."

Dr. Corman didn't look as if he believed Sam for a minute, but he waved them inside. "Good-and-plenties are already tupperwared."

"Great," said Sam, nodding curtly. "Thanks." He watched as Dr. Corman passed the keys to the morgue to Dean.

"Go ahead and leave the keys with Marty up front, and please, gentlemen...refrigerate after opening."

As soon as Dr. Corman was gone, the Winchesters and Alex slipped into the room full of silver doors that held bodies behind them. Alex flicked her ears up, straining them to listen for anything odd, and inhaled sharply. "Anything?" Sam asked, dropping the leash and going with Dean to get to work on preparing the bodies for looking. Dean looked disgusted with the idea of what they were about to do.

Alex shook her head, huffing sharply. She flopped onto the cold hard floor, watching them closely with her head resting on her white paws as they slipped on odd aprons, gloved their hands, and prepared the bodies for cutting. Alex came over when the bodies were arranged on the hard steel tables, her nose working furiously as she lifted herself on her back legs to sniff furiously at the bodies - careful not to touch, of course. Even she wasn't fond of touching the dead.

"Anything?" Sam repeated.

Alex sent him a rather nasty glare. She'd inform him if she did, by chance, find anything, and he held his hand sup in surrender before seizing a scalpel and getting to work. Alex returned to her place on the floor, this time near Dean's feet as the two worked above her.

They'd been at work for some time, even moving onto the second body, when Dean suddenly smirked at his brother, waved for him to watch what he was about, and then turned to look down at Alex. Alex glanced up, lifting her head with narrowed eyes. "Hey, Alex," he said, choking on his own laughter before shoving the heart in his hands out in her direction. "Be my Valentine?"

Alex gave him a blank look that slowly darkened with an emotion that neither Winchester could place as she carefully climbed to her feet. A growl had just begun to thunder in her throat when Sam cut in hastily, snatching the heart from his brother. "Wait a second. These hearts have identical marks." Both looked his way. Alex forgot her annoyance, immediately hauling herself onto her back legs. She placed her front legs carefully on the table and peered with Dean at the symbols Sam was showing them, her nose twitching. "They look like some kind of letter - oh, no," he suddenly groaned.

"What?" his brother snapped.

"I think it's Enochian," Sam said.

Alex groaned lowly as Dean grumbled, "You mean angel scratches? Like the tagging on our ribs?" Sam shrugged and Dean scowled, removing the gloves from his hands. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number as Alex lowered herself from the table, stretching herself back out on the floor. Both eyes - even the milky, blind one - darted between them both as Dean held the phone to his ear and waited for someone to pick up on the other end. Finally, he spoke, "Cas, it's Dean." A pause. "Yeah, room thirty-one-c, basement level. Saint James Medical Center. We're lookin' at some hearts that have symbols, and Sam thinks it's Enochian."

He hung up and not even a second later, Castiel had appeared beside Sam, who jumped a little when he reached over and picked up a heart. Dean looked a little startled. Alex didn't bat an eye. Castiel was studying it closely with a furrowed brow, pressing his lips into a tight line. "You're right, Sam," he said after a moment. "These are angelic marks. I imagine you'll find similar marks on the other couples' hearts as well…"

How he knew about the other couple, none of them knew. "So what are they?" Sam asked carefully. "What do they mean?"

"It's a mark of union," replied the angel, cocking his head a fraction. "This man and woman were intended to mate."

There was a moment in which Dean comprehended what Castiel had just said, and then he sighed, "What put them there then?"

"Your people call them Cupid," Castiel said firmly and Alex snapped her head up to squint at him. Castiel glanced at her before explaining. "What human myth has mistaken for Cupid is actually a lower order of angel. Technically, it's a cherub. Third-class."

"A...a _cherub_?" Dean repeated. "Like the little flying fat kid in diapers?"

Castiel seemed a little grouchy with that description, saying sharply, "They're not incontinent. They're all over the world - there are dozens of them. A Cupid has likely gone rogue, and we have to stop him before he kills again."

Alex couldn't help but roll her eyes at his dramatic statement.

What else did hunters _do_?

After finishing up at the medical center, the Winchesters and Alex went back to the motel room, Castiel in tow. Once there, they quickly changed and then headed out for a restaurant, all of them eager to get some lunch and talk over what they needed to do next. Alex found herself in the backseat with Castiel, although she couldn't say she minded. The angel was amusing to watch as he grumbled about how long it was taking them to get places.

When they reached the restaurant, Alex was quick to place orders, knowing precisely what to get everyone as Dean lugged his brother and Castiel to a corner booth. Castiel slid in uncomfortably in the back, Sam on one side and Dean on the other. When Alex came back with a number to put on their table, she slid into the booth on Dean's other side, her face set in a scowl.

"What's your problem?" Dean asked, arching a brow at the look on her face.

Alex bared her teeth in response, growling under her breath. "Nothing. I've just been reminded how hideous I look, that's all." She sent an icy look over her shoulder at a snickering man behind a counter, who kept casting quick looks at their table.

" _Really_ ," Dean said thoughtfully, moving to rise to his feet with a scowl on his face. The man's snickering died down almost immediately when he saw just who Alex was friends with, and Sam was quick to reach across the table and shove him back down. "Prick," Dean spat, and then added, "Don't listen to the bastard."

Alex's lips twitched. "I didn't know you cared so much, Dean."

They waited to start their discussion until their food had been delivered. Sam and Alex tore into their food while Castiel watched intently as Dean put ketchup on the burger Alex had ordered for him, listening as the eldest Winchester said, "So you just happen to know he likes the cosmos at this place, Cas?"

Castiel, not tearing his eyes from Dean's burger as Dean picked it up happily, replied, "This place is a nexus of human reproduction. It's exactly the kind of...of garden the Cupid will come to...to pollinate."

Dean paused, and then scowled, losing his appetite almost immediately. He set the burger down, muttering under his breath about pollination and other such things. It earned him odd looks from Sam and Alex, but Castiel, who had been continuously staring at Dean's food, asked, "You're not going to finish that?" Dean shook his head without even asking, Castiel snatched it from the platter, earning suspicious looks from Alex. He suddenly looked towards a table across the room, at a couple who were seating themselves into a booth. "He's here," he said, taking a bite.

"Where?" Sam said, immediately looking up and around. "I don't see anything."

"Meet me in the back," Castiel ordered, and then disappeared without a word. Dean scowled furiously, pissed that he couldn't see to give them straight answers. Nevertheless, he waited until Sam and Alex finished scarfing their meals down and Alex had stepped out of the booth before following suit. Sam followed both of them and together, they headed for the back of the restaurant. Alex glanced around before slipping into the back, not trusting the employees to just let them work in peace.

"Cas?" Sam called when they had found a semi-large storage area full of crates. The room was chilled, enough so that he grimaced at it, folding his arms. Castiel seemed to appear out of thin air beside him, looking somewhat proud. It immediately made Alex suspicious, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle.

"I have him tethered," the angel announced. And then he uttered a quick chant in what Alex assumed to be Enochian before ordering, "Manifest yourself."

Nothing happened for a moment, so Dean opened his mouth and asked, "So where is he?" A split second later, he made a sound that nearly sent Alex into hysterics when he was suddenly grabbed in a tight hug by a strange-looking naked man, who cried, "Here I am!"

"Help!" Dean gasped, struggling to escape the surprisingly strop grasp as Sam stared in outright shock at him.

"Oh, help is on the way. Yes, it is, yes, it is," the man declared with a beaming smile. He suddenly released Dean, who shot away like a bullet, looking terrified that he'd be hugged again. "And hello, you!" He was immediately doing the same thing to Castiel, who merely looked uncomfortable, but put up with it.

"This...this is Cupid?" Dean said faintly.

"Yes," Castiel confirmed with a grimace, and then looked incredibly relieved when he was released. Cupid managed to get a grip on Sam despite Sam's desire for otherwise, and then turned his attentions on Alex. "And you!" he cried, immediately reaching for her.

Alex pressed her back up against the wall, ducking under his arm at the last second. "No!" she snapped, panicked. She dove to hide behind Dean, using him asa shield despite his protests, only for Cupid to appear behind her and lift her into the air with a full body hug. She snarled furiously.

"Is this a fight?" Dean said, looking desperately to Castiel for answers, his hand half-reaching for the gun he kept on him. "Are we in a fight?"

Castiel grimaced, looking at Alex apologetically when she was finally released. She dove away, taking shelter beside Sam. Her lips were pulled back in a very canine-like manner. "This is their handshake." Alex proclaimed that she didn't like it and Castiel admitted, "No one likes it."

Cupid didn't seem at all bothered by this. Instead, smiling with bright red cheeks, he looked amongst the four of them. "What can I do for you?"

"Why are you doing this?" Castiel immediately asked. When Cupid only looked at him in confusion, he clarified, "Your targets - the ones you've marked - are slaughtering each other."

Cupid looked shocked. "They _are_?"

"Look, birthday suit, we know, okay?" Dean snapped, losing his temper. The plump man had made him more uncomfortable than he could ever remember being, and he didn't like the fact that he'd been manhandled in a way that wasn't getting thrown through a wall. "We know you've been flitting around, popping people with your poison arrow and making them murder each other! Why?"

Cupid stared at him in shock, his smile gone. "You...you think that I...well, uh, I don't know what to say," Cupid stammered before promptly bursting into tears, sobbing into his hands. They all stared at him in shock.

"Should...should someone talk to him?" Alex suggested nervously, clearly not intending to do so herself. Dean nodded immediately, agreeing. "I...I'll do it," she muttered reluctantly when no one said anything or decided to step forward. Hesitantly, she edged over to Cupid and cleared her throat to get his attention. "Ignore Dean. He's a tosser. We didn't mean, um, we didn't mean to hurt your feelings-"

She'd barely finished such a statement before the angel was tackling her in a hug. She shrieked, looking ready to draw her blade on him, but before she could, Cupid said, nearly blubbering, "Love is more than a word to me, you know! I _love_ love. I _love_ it! And if that's wrong...I don't want to be right!"

"Of course, of course," Alex said hoarsely, prying him off of her. "I understand completely."

"I was just on my appointed rounds," Cupid continued, not looking offended when Alex fled to hide behind Sam, keeping him between she and the angel. "Whatever my targets do after I've dealt with them, well...that's nothing to do with me. I was just following my orders." He looked hopefully to Castiel. "Please, brother, read my mind, so that you'll know I'm speaking the truth."

Reluctantly, Castiel stepped forward, furrowing his brow. After a moment of searching Cupid's eyes, he nodded. "He's speaking the truth." Cupid was so excited by this announcement that he stepped forward to give him another hug, but Castiel stepped back, focusing on Dean when Dean spoke.

"You were just following orders?" Cupid nodded, and Dean pressed his lips together. "Whose?"

" _Whose_?" Cupid said and then burst out laughing, grinning at Dean. "Heaven, silly."

Sam, who had said nothing up to that point, suddenly narrowed his eyes at Cupid. "Why does Heaven care about who meets who?"

"Oh, they mostly don't," Cupid reassured. "But there is, you know, certain bloodlines, certain destinies. Like yours!" He gestured to the Winchesters. "The union of John and Mary Winchester - _very_ big deal upstairs, top priority arrangement. Mhm. Oh, and yours of course," he added bashfully to Alex. "Where would Gabriel be without you?" He paused, and then admitted, "Well, where he is now, I suppose, although it isn't necessarily true that he couldn't still do what he should be doing-"

Alex perked up, immediately listening. She remembered what Gabriel had said. About her being like him, the one to ensure the apocalypse happened. Apparently Dean and Sam thought the same, because they both glanced at her. But she said nothing about it, deciding it was a conversation that could be had at a later time - when she decided it was time to summon the archangel himself. Instead, she said, "So you fixed-up our parents?"

"Not me," Cupid said, flustered by the mere idea. "But yeah, and it wasn't easy either. I mean, John and Mary couldn't stand each other at first and _your_ parents...well, your mother had quite the jump on your good old man. Modern assassins and everything, you know. But when we were done with them….perfect couple."

Alex said nothing, stashing her confusion deep, deep down. She'd never heard anything about anything regarding assassination.

"They're _dead_!" Dean blurted. "You call that perfect?!"

"I'm sorry," Cupid said, looking very sincere about what he was saying, "but...the orders were very clear. You, Sam, Alex...you all needed to be born. Your parents were all meant to be." He beamed, singing excitedly, "A match made in Heaven!"

Dean's expression darkened and before Alex, Sam, or Castiel could stop him, he'd lunged for Cupid, cracking his fist over the cherub's jaw. Cupid disappeared with a shocked, pained look as Dean immediately shouted, "Son of a bitch!" Shaking his fist out, wincing and thinking he might have broken something, he snarled, "Where is he? Where'd the bastard go?"

"I believe you upset him," Castiel sighed, looking a little annoyed.

"Really, Winchester?" Alex said in exasperation.

When Dean turned a nasty look on her, Sam input, " _Enough_ , Dean! You just punched Cupid! He was the closest thing to a lead we had about what's going on here? What the hell's your problem lately, anyways?"

Rather than answering, Dean whirled around and stormed away.

* * *

With Dean in such a bad mood after dealing with Cupid, Alex and Sam agreed mutually to answer a call that Dr. Corman had made regarding another strange death that occurred. They sent Dean back to the motel room with Castiel to do any research while they took the Impala and headed for the medical center. After making sure no one was looking in the parking lot, she changed forms, allowed Sam to strap a collar, leash, and vest on, and then they headed inside.

When they reached the morgue, Dr. Corman was waiting. He smiled faintly at them. "You said you wanted to hear about any other weird ones," he said tiredly to Sam, and Sam nodded, waving for him to lead the way. Sam and Alex trailed after him and stopped beside him beside a gurney that had been pulled out. Dr. Corman glanced at Sam, and then flicked back a sheet that covered the corpse on it.

Alex wrinkled her nose in disgust at the way that the dead man's stomach was abnormally protruding. It was rather disgusting to look at.

"Lester Finch," Dr. Corman told Sam, flipping through a clipboard full of papers. "Pulled his records. Looks like this gentleman used to weigh four hundred pounds or so, but got a gastric bypass, which brought his weight down considerably. But then for some reason...he went on a twinkie binge last night."

Sam grimaced. "So...he died from a twinkie binge?"

"Well, after he blew out the band around his stomach," Dr Corman sighed, "he filled it up 'til it burst. When he could no longer swallow, he started jamming the cakes down his gullet with a toilet brush, like he was ramrodding a cannon." Dr. Corman set aside the clipboard and ran a hand over his head, huffing. "This is a very peculiar thing to do, isn't it?"

Sam and Alex exchanged a glance and pretended they didn't see how the doctor took a sip from a flask.

After finishing up with a few questions on "behalf of the FBI," Sam and Alex returned to the Impala and as Alex changed within the car, Sam called Dean's number, back to the Imapala's windows. Dean answered on the first ring, and Sam couldn't say he was surprised. The guy was likely impatient for an excuse to stop researching to pop up. "Hey," he said, not daring to look over his shoulder to see if Alex was almost done. "So this guy wasn't marked by Cupid, but his death is definitely weird."

"Yeah, well, I just went through police records," Dean said, voice muffled as if he'd set the phone between his cheek and shoulder, "and counting him, that's eight suicides since Wednesdays and nineteen overdoses. That's way over the seasonal batting average."

The car door opened and Alex crept out of the Impala, straightening her shirt and combing her hand through her hair. "Speaker," she ordered.

Sam did so and then told his brother, "If there's a pattern here, it's not just love. I think this might be a hell of a lot bigger than we thought." He pinched the bridge of his nose, grimacing. "We're on our way back to the room."

"Yeah, alright. See you in ten," Dean answered before hanging up.

Sam put his phone away and then took a deep breath. Alex eyed him. "Are you okay, Sam?" she asked, furrowing her brow.

"Yeah, just...weird stuff," he muttered.

"Well, we should get going." Her gaze darkened a little. "I smell sulphur."

Alex had barely finished her sentence before the sight of a man caught Sam's attention. His eyes locked onto him, recognizing him immediately. The man from the hospital, who'd been strange enough to catch his attention. As he stared at him, he narrowed his eyes and started after him, not bothering to wait and see if Alex would follow.

"Sam!" Alex hissed, confused. Confusion vanished when she caught a whiff of the man's scent. A growl built in her throat, and she took her blade in hand as she followed. They trailed the man into an alleyway and the second they were out of sight, Sam was on him, slamming the demon into a wall with the demon knife at his throat. A briefcase he'd been holding clattered to the ground at their feet.

"I know what you are, damn it," Sam seethed, furious for a reason he couldn't understand. Something was driving him crazy, pushing him to do something he'd not considered doing in a very long time, and it was pissing him off. "I could _smell you_."

" _Sam_ ," Alex growled, suddenly more concerned about the youngest Winchester than she was about the demon himself. She narrowed her eyes when the knife slashed at the demon's cheek, warning The demon swore trying to free himself, and it was a quick jerk that slammed his forehead into Sam's nose, sending Sam stumbling back, that did it. The demon fled the second it was free and Alex stared harshly at Sam when he swiped at his nose and then stared at the blood that now decorated the demon knife. "Sam," she repeated. "What the bloody hell was that about?"

Sam stared at the knife for a few moments and Alex worried she was about to witness a relapse of addiction to demon blood. But relief flooded her as he shook his head and wiped the blade off quickly, putting it away. "Let's go back," he muttered, grabbing .

He took off for the Impala at a brisk walk before Alex could say anything more.

* * *

When they got to the motel room, Sam started talking before Alex was able to even try. Castiel was there, a pile of wrapped hamburgers resting on the table he was sitting at. Alex sat in the chair beside him, arms folded and gaze flicking between Sam and Dean. When Sam had finished telling Dean that they'd found a demon while out and about, he asked, "What the hell does a demon got to do with this anyay?" He eyed the briefcase oddly.

"Believe me," Alex growled, not taking her eyes off of Sam. "We've no bloody idea."

"You guys okay?" Dean questioned, glancing between them as she'd been doing. His eyes lingered on Alex before returning to his brother.

"I didn't even get near the bastard," Alex said irritably.

"Yeah," Sam said, waving him off. He gestured to the briefcase. "I'm more curious about that."

"Let's crack her open," Dean decided, rubbing his hands together. He reached for the briefcase, which had been set on one of two beds. "What's the worst that could happen, right?" He grinned at them, earning an eye roll from Alex, and then undid the clasps. The second the case opened, however, bright light nearly blinded him and he slammed the case shut immediately. Sam and Dean rubbed at their eyes while Alex grimaced, her own watering.

Castiel, however, had taken on an unhappy grimace. "A human soul. It's starting to make sense," he informed them, taking a bite out of his burger.

"What about a human soul makes sense?" Alex asked, glancing at the angel with a furrowed brow. "And when did you begin to eat food? I thought you didn't need to eat."

"I don't," Castiel answered. "My hunger...it's a clue, actually." They all stared at him, waiting. "This town is not suffering from some love-gone-wrong effect. It's not done by Cupid. It's suffering from hunger. Starvation to be exact - famine."

"Famine," Alex breathed, sitting up straighter. "As in the horseman, right? Bloody hell, isn't that absolutely wonderful." She reached over and took a burger, tearing a bite out. She chewed and swallowed before looking to the confused Winchesters. "Famine isn't just food, you know. Everyone starves for something. Food, sex, love, attention…"

"That explains the puppy-lovers that Cupid shot up," Dean said in realization.

Castiel nodded. "Right. The cherub made them crave love and then Famine came and made the rabid for it."

"But what about you?" Sam asked, waving at the burgers. "Since when do angels secretly hunger for hamburgers? And I mean, that's a lot of hamburgers."

"It's my vessel," admitted the angel. "Jimmy. His appetite for red meat has been touched by Famine's effect." He scowled. "'And then will come Famine riding on a black steed. He will ride into the land of plenty and great will be the Horseman's hunger, for he is hunger. His hunger will seep out and poison the air.' Famine is hungry. He must devour the souls of his victims."

"So that's what's in the case?" Dean asked, folding his arms unhappily. "One of the victim's souls?"

"Lucifer has sent his demons to care for Famine, to feed him, to make certain he'll be ready to march across the land." Castiel would have looked fierce, powerful even, Alex supposed - had he not decided to shove another burger into his mouth. Alex rolled her eyes, even as her own stomach rolled nervously. She set aside the burger she'd taken, standing as Sam disappeared into the bathroom to clean himself up. She moved closer to Dean, watching until Sam was gone and then leaned in to mutter in his ear.

"We need to keep an eye on him," she said without further explanation. He glanced at her, green eyes sparking with something she couldn't name. She met his gaze and they stared each other down for a few moments before Dean spoke aloud, aware Sam was listening.

"So...what, this whole town is just gonna eat, drink, and screw itself to death?" he demanded, focusing his attention back onto Castiel, although he kept glancing at Alex, wondering just what the hell she'd meant.

"We should stop it," Castiel commented thoughtfully, reaching for another burger.

"That's a lovely idea," Alex agreed. She thought it over, how they'd stopped War. "When War disappeared...he got his power from that ring. After we cut the ring off, he vanished. Everybody that was affected awoke as if they were coming out of a dream. I wonder if Famine has the same kind of ring?" Castiel nodded his confirmation. "Then let's track him down, cut the ring off like we did War."

Castiel looked at his massive pile of uneaten burgers sadly, as if leaving them behind was going to hurt him deeply. "I suppose."

"What are you," Dean said with a snort, "the Hamburglar?" Alex let out a bark of laughter, amused with what he'd said, and Dean looked so entirely proud of himself that she snickered again. "I mean, have you even tried to stop eating the hamburgers?"  
"I've developed a taste for ground beef," Castiel said defensively and then added, "And I'm an angel, I can stop whenever I want."

Dean shook his head. Sam emerged from the bathroom finally, looking uncomfortable, and Alex's sharp eyes landed on him. "Ready?" he asked, all ready checking to ensure his gun was where it should have been.

"Yes," Alex chirped at the same time that Sam said, stammering, "Dean...I can't...I can't go." Dean looked blankly at Sam, not understanding what he meant and Sam hastily began to explain. "I think it got to me, Dean, Famine. I think I'm hungry for...well…" He made a small gesture, glancing at Alex.

"Demon blood." Alex said the words sympathetically, understanding Sam's response. She'd ben right to tell Dean to keep an eye on his brother then. "Yes, staying back might be a good idea." Sam looked annoyed with himself, but nodded, looking to his brother.

Dean looked downright furious, although not entirely with Sam. At least Sam was letting them know instead of trying to get out and kill some demons. "You've got to be freaking kidding me. You have to get him out of here," Dean added to Castiel desperately. "You should beam him to, like, Montana. Anywhere but here."

"He's already infected," Castiel informed him gravely. "It wouldn't work...the hunger would just travel with him."

"So let's go cut off Famine's finger." Alex's face was set with a determined look. "If we cut off the ring, he loses his power, and Sam doesn't need to worry anymore. We'll lock you down, so you can't get out and cause problems. Not that I want to do it." Sam had grimaced at her words. "Sorry, that was somewhat rude, but it's better safe than sorry, right?"

"Right," he grudgingly agreed.

It didn't take them long to lock Sam down. Dean handcuffed him to a pipe in the bathroom, muttering an apology and telling him to hang in there while Alex went to work on shoving a dresser in front of the door, grunting as she did so. Castiel watched them all as he continued to eat, hastily shoving down as many burgers as he could in the time he had left to eat them.

When Sam was set, Dean turned to Alex and Castiel. "Let's go." He paused, and then added as Alex awkwardly worked her jaw, grimacing about something or another, "If you start feeling the need to do something, let me know. I'll do the same."

"Understood," she said seriously, running her fingers over the inside of her arm.

Together, Dean and Alex headed off for the Impala, Castiel agreeing to meet them there.

A check at the medical center delivered some rather disappointing news: Dr. Corman was dead. According to a staff member, after a sobriety of twenty years, the doctor had drank himself into oblivion and beyond. Growling about such matters, Alex strode alongside Dean back to the Impala, working her jaw awkwardly again. She found herself getting a little worried about the fact that her entire mouth was aching - teeth, lips, gums, jaw, _everything_. Like a teething child, she wanted to gnaw on something.

"Are you serious?"

Dean's exasperated groan drew her attention away from her desire to chew and Alex grinned to herself, entirely amused by the sight of Castiel standing beside the Impala with a new hamburger in hand, munching away. "These make me very happy," Castiel told him in response. When Dean asked how many he'd had, Castiel thought it over and then said, "I lost count. It's in the low hundreds. Are you alright?"

"Yes," Dean replied at the same time that Alex grunted, "Not really." Dean's head snapped around and she grimaced, snapping her teeth together to make them click. "I need something to chew on. And if you say anything about a bloody chewbone, I'm going to bite _you_ ," Alex added with a growl when Dean smirked, opening his mouth. "This is serious. If I start getting snappy, it's not going to be good."

Castiel agreed. "There are many humans in this town, affected or not. Skinwalkers generally have the desire to bite, whether they show it or not."

"Great," Dean grumbled. "So you're saying I should have locked you up with Sam?"

"Probably not. I would have bit him. In any case…" Alex shrugged. "We just need to work quickly, or you're going to have to lock me up somewhere else."

"I'm not gonna do that," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. He knew she hated the idea of being locked up anywhere; after Matt, she didn't do well with being locked into places. She hated it.

"What I'd like to know is why you are unaffected," Castiel said suddenly, squinting at Dean as he bit into his burger again. "Where is our hunger, Dean? Slowly but surely, everyone in this town is falling prey to Famine - even me. But so far, you seem unaffected."

"Hey," Dean said with a shrug, "when I want to drink, I drink. When I want sex, I go get it. Same goes for a sandwich or a fight. I'm just well-fed, I guess."

"Well-adjusted," Alex muttered, rolling her eyes. "Of course you are. Twat." She ground her teeth against the ache in her jaw and suddenly jerked her chin at something. Dean looked. A man was coming out of the medical center, a briefcase in hand. He ducked into a car and Alex and Dean exchanged a look before scampering into the Impala. Castiel simply disappeared and reappeared, much to their annoyance. Dean started the car just as the demon's car pulled out of the lot.

They tailed the other car, Dean shooting glances at Alex every now and then when she began to snap her teeth over and over again, as if it would help. "You okay over there?"

"No," she said, clenching her jaw. "No, I'm certainly not okay. I'm about to bite the seat, and I _really_ would not like to do that."

"Here," Castiel said as he offered her a hamburger.

Alex snatched it up and tore in, eagerly sinking her teeth into it. Relief washed through her for all of a few seconds before she felt the desire to bite again and she groaned in frustration. This was a pain in the ass.

As she devoured the burger, Dean and Castiel hatched a plan. When they arrived at a restaurant the demon had led them to, Dean, worried Castiel wouldn't keep the plan in mind, asked as he climbed out of the Impala, "You wanna go over the plan again?" When Castiel didn't answer, he glared over the top of the hood, finding him distracted with one of his burgers. "Hey, happy meal! The plan?"

Castiel didn't look at him as he said, "I take the knife, go in, cut off the ring hand of Famine, and meet you here in the parking lot after I'm done."

"Sounds perfectly foolproof," Alex said around a mouth of burger, grimacing as saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth. She swore, wiping at it and throwing the burger down on the pavement. It wasn't working. As Castiel disappeared, Alex snarled, "Bloody _hell_ , I look like a rabid animal."

"Just don't bite me or anyone else," Dean said, eyeing her warily.

"No promises at this point." She massaged the muscles in her cheeks, wincing when the scarred side of her face twinged painfully because of it. They stood there for nearly ten minutes before she said, "Dean, he's taking too long."

"Damn right he is," Dean agreed, removing the demon knife from where he'd hidden it. "Let's go take a look."

Alex nodded. She removed her own blade, chewing the inside of her cheek painfully as they strode in through the front door, not bothering to try and be sneaky. The sight that greeted them made Alex gasp. The restaurant was empty for the most part, except for the angel on the floor of the restaurant, shoving raw ground beef into his mouth. "Cas!" she barked, dropping to her knees to try and stop him from doing so. Castiel barely noticed, too busy scarfing down as much beef as he could.

Dean was too distracted to see the ambush coming. He yelped when he was slammed to the ground by a pair of demons, the second of which immediately went after Alex. She reeled back, brandishing her own knife and baring her teeth, but a solid blow to her back by a third demon drove her to the ground. She wheezed, barely able to breathe. "Alex!" Dean called in alarm when she clawed at her chest, struggling to bring air into her lungs.

The demons laughed, not at all concerned as they dragged their captives into a corner of the restaurant that held a simple table with a man sitting at it, forcing the pair of hunters to stand before him. Alex took one look at the man and shuddered, saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth as she growled. A tube carried air into his body, and he was old, slouching uncomfortably in the chair.

"The other Winchester," the man - Famine - murmured, eyes glittering. "And their loyal puppy-dog." Neither said anything as Famine gestured to Castiel. "I hope you don't mind. I threw your other dog a steak when you sicced him on me."

"So this is your big trick?" Dean sneered. "Making people cuckoo for cocoa puffs?"

"Doesn't take much - hardly a push," Famine said simply. He gave a hint of a smirk, gesturing to Alex. "See?" Dean turned his head to look, worry spiking through him when Alex suddenly snarled, rubbing the muscles on her cheeks desperately. She didn't even bother to swipe at her mouth; her arm was all ready soaked from doing so. "Even loyal dogs can turn on their masters if they are famined."

Dean opened his mouth to snap at Famine, but Alex cut him off by suddenly growling and burying her teeth in her arm, teeth sinking into the flesh, sharp enough to cut through with ease. Blood immediately began dripping down her chin and onto her shirt. Glaring viciously, she said around her arm, "I'd stab myself with my knife before I bit Dean or Sam," she retorted.

Dean studied her and then turned his attention back on Famine, admittedly pleased even as Famine began to speak again. "America...all-you-can-eat, all the time. Consume, consume. A swarm of locusts in stretch pants. And yet, you're all still starving, because hunger doesn't just come from the body, it also comes from the soul."

"Doesn't seem to be coming from mine," Dean said coldly.

"Yes, I noticed that," Famine murmured, looking troubled by this. "Have you wondered why that is? How could you even walk in my presence? Look at him, at her." He waved to Castiel and Alex, who had buried her teeth in her arm again, down to the bone. He stood, ignoring Dean's icy glare as he came to stand weakly before him, resting a hand on his cheek. Dean looked as if he would spit on him. "Yes, I see...that's one deep, dark nothing you got there, Dean. Can't fill it, can you? Not with food, nor drink, nor even sex. You can smirk and joke and lie to your brother, to Alex, to yourself, but not to me. I see inside you, Dean. I can see how broken you are, how defeated. You can't win and you know it. But you just keep fighting, going through the motions. You're not hungry, Dean, because inside...you're already dead."

Alex growled, furious, gaze vicious and brutal as she stared at Famine. She'd have sank her teeth into Famine if she could.

"Let them go."

Alex snapped her head around, just as Dean did. They stared in shock at Sam, who'd come to stand behind them. Alex's heart sank at the sight of the blood that soaked the front of his shirt and slicked his face. "Sammy, no," Dean moaned, horrified. How had he even gotten out?!

Demons stepped forward to deal with him, their eyes black and lifeless, but Famine held a hand up to stop them. "Stop! No one lays a finger on this sweet little boy. Sam, I see you got the snack I sent you." Sam said nothing, glaring at him. "Don't worry, Sam. You're not like everyone else. You'll never die from drinking too much. You're the exception that proves the rule, just the way Satan wanted you to be. So…" He laughed breathlessly, waving at the demons. "Cut their throats! Have at them!"

Sam still said nothing, merely stared at them all. His gaze flicked briefly to Dean and Alex, darkening, and then he lifted his hand. He closed his eyes, focusing, and as he did...he withdrew the demons from their hosts, all five at once. Dean reached over to drag Alex to her feet, never taking his eyes from his brother. She kept her teeth in her own arm, not daring to release it. Dean kept his hand on the small of her back, ready to shove her towards the door if need be.

And then, the smoke pooled over the floor and Sam lowered his hand with a shake of his head. "No," he told Famine fiercely.

"If you don't want them," Famine said, not the least bit annoyed. He waved a hand and inhaled the demon smoke as if it was a meal. He gave Sam a cool smile when Sam extended his hand again, this time towards the Horseman. "Your power doesn't work on me, Sam. I'm a Horseman."

"You're right," Sam sneered. "But it will work on the demons." Without hesitation, he ripped the souls right out of Famine, dispelling them on the floor as he'd once done on a regular basis. Blood dripped from his nose and he staggered, but Famine went limp, eyes blankly staring ahead. Alex lowered her arm after a moment, blood staining her teeth as her lips parted. Castiel shoved himself to his feet and they all stared at Sam.

* * *

From where she stood outside on Bobby's porch, struggling to re-wrap fresh bandages over her bites, Alex could hear Sam screaming from the panic room he'd been forced into, pleading for someone to let him out. Bobby hadn't been able to handle it; he'd gone to get some groceries.

Alex snapped her teeth together angrily when she couldn't get the bandages to cooperate. "Bloody hell," she snapped.

"Need help?"

Alex glanced over her shoulder and found an exhausted Dean standing there, running a hand through his hair. His face was expressionless. "Sure," she muttered, moving over on the step. Dean came over and dropped to sit beside her, taking her arm and the bandages when she offered them. Gently, he began to wrap the injuries, each move careful to avoid hurting her. Alex arched a brow. This was new. "Thanks," she said anyways. She hesitated, and then asked quietly, "Are you okay, Dean?"

"Not really," he muttered.

"What Famine said...about the nothingness...was he right?" she asked quietly, watching him work methodically. She watched his face closely, looking for the slightest hint of what he was thinking.

Dean didn't answer right away. He finished what he was doing, carefully tying off the gauze and tucking it under another piece. He moved on to another bite. "Yeah," he said hoarsely at long last. He didn't explain any further. She didn't ask.

Instead, she told him, "I asked Cas about Barachiel and the sudden want for his coat. Castiel told me to ignore it. He said he'll track Barachiel down and see what he can figure out. He'll get back to me about it." She played with her knife in her free hand. "And we talked about my blade. He said to keep a good eye on it. Not that we don't already."

Dean nodded and then finished up the second round. When he was done, he dropped her arm and put his elbows on his knees, his lips pressed together. "God, everything's a mess," he muttered. "Can't get a damn moment of peace."

Alex thought over how to respond for a moment and then simply gave up, sitting beside him in silence. They sat there for some time, simply enjoying one another's company in peace, and then Dean said gruffly, "Thanks."

"For what?" Alex grunted, glancing at him.

He didn't look at her. "Not wanting to bite us."

Alex merely grinned and flashed sharp teeth. "Why the bloody hell would I bite the two morons in the world who won't kill me as soon as they look at me?" She winked playfully, elbowing him lightly and earning a somewhat half-hearted glare for her efforts. But then she grew serious. "I like you two too much to even consider turning you into a monster like me."

"You aren't a monster," Dean muttered and then climbed to his feet. "Stop thinking that you are. I'm goin' out to get something to eat. Wanna come?"

"Yes." Alex climbed to her feet, yawning massively as she did so. "I don't think you've ever come up with a better idea. Can I drive?"

Dean rolled his eyes and threw the Impala's keys to her.

* * *

 _I suddenly got the itch to write and voila. Stuff happened. And some Dean and Alex interactions that are actually pleasant! Yay!_

 _Regarding the healing of Alex's face by Castiel...when the scars first appeared, Castiel was still with the other angels. To them, the healing of that would have been a pointless waste of time. Now, Alex, despite claiming to hate the scars, prefers to have them as a reminder of how she screwed up and what happens when she isn't careful. That's not to say that she won't ask for help getting rid of them later. ;)_

 _Thanks to reviewers (_ _probablyshouldbesleeping and njeha!) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


	42. Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid

"Bobby," Sam said as he looked out of the Impala at the nearby diner that Alex and Dean would be entering to interview someone about some odd occurrences. "Listen, when you get this message, call, okay?" He looked annoyed as he hung up on his phone, turning to look when Dean spoke, climbing out of the Impala.

"Still not home?" he demanded, fixing his tie and eyeing Alex as she pulled herself out of the car, her sleek black skirt pressed to near perfection. Sam studied him thoughtfully. Something had changed between the pair since everything with Famine had happened, and Sam had spotted it within moments of watching them interact. They pretended not to notice it, but Sam certainly had. "How far could he get in that chair?"

"Who knows?" Alex chimed in, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She'd gotten it trimmed recently, shorter than normal. It fell just beneath her chin, carefully styled bangs keeping most of her scarred face in the shadows. The hint of black ink peeking over the deep cut of her blouse was reassuring to all of them. She'd finally gotten the anti-possession symbol tattooed onto her, copying the position the Winchesters had chosen: just over the heart. "Are we ready to go, Dean?"

"Yep. We'll be back, Sam," he said, nodding curtly to his brother. Sam had agreed to let the do the interviewing while he hung back and did mostly research. Since he'd recovered from the demon blood, everyone was still a little leery and Sam was fully content to hang out in the background for another hunt or two until he was sure he could handle himself.

Dean and Alex set off for the diner that the man they were speaking to, Digger Wells, had agreed to meet them in. Both looked like quite the intimidating pair, with Alex's heels clicking on the pavement and Dean's face set in a hint of a scowl.

When they stepped into the diner, they scanned the people within until a man waved them down. He stood to greet them. In a bisk American accent, Alex asked, "Mr. Wells?"

"Please, call me Digger," he said, waving for them to sit back down.

"Who gave you that name?" Dean said, looking curious. When Digger said that he had given himself the name, Dean wrinkled his name in distaste. "You gave yourself your own nickname? You can't do that."

"Who died and made you queen?" Digger retorted, glaring at the man who claimed to believe the story he was about to tell them.

"Okay," Alex growled, cutting in and elbowing Dean as hard as she dared in the ribs. He winced, but shut his mouth. Putting on a sugary smile, she said, "Why don't you just tell us what you saw, Digger?"

Digger settled in, looking entirely serious as he gave a rather short version of the story. "I saw Clay Thompson climb into Benny Sutton's trailer through the window. Couple of minutes later, Clay walked out and Benny was dead."

"And, uh, is this the guy you saw?" Dean asked, holding up a picture of a man that they'd printed out in a print shop a few blocks away before coming to interview Digger. Digger confirmed it, commenting that he'd been covered in mud. "And you're aware that Clay Thompson died five years ago?" Digger nodded. "You're _positive_ that it was this guy?"

Digger glowered, leaning forward with a look that promised violence. Alex wasn't entirely sure that Digger would win in a fight against Dean. He'd fought angels and demons, after all. "Are you calling me a liar?"

"No, no, no," Alex quickly said to soothe him. "Of course not, Digger, please ignore him. He's fresh out of the academy. Look, could you think of any reason why Clay Thompson, alive or dead, would choose to kill Benny Sutton?"

"Hell yeah," Digger said, smiling at her. He appeared to like Alex, something she was pleased with. It would help them get the information they needed to confirm if the story was true. "Five years ago, Benny was the one that killed Clay in the first place. So-called 'hunting accident.' Now, if you ask me...Clay came back from the grave to get a little payback." The door opened behind them and Alex didn't bother to look until he muttered, "Heads up. 'Fargo.'"

"Digger," a woman greeted as she came to stand before them, dressed in a sheriff's uniform. Her brown hair was cropped short in a pixie cut of sorts, and her stony face was lined with exhaustion. "And you two," she added, nodding in greeting to Dean and Alex. "I'm Sheriff Jody Mills. I don't believe we've had the pleasure."

"Agents Dorfman and Niedermeyer, FBI," Dean replied, nodding in return. Alex offered her a small smile, all the while rolling her eyes at the names he'd given them.

"Welcome to Sioux Falls," Jody said, and then eyed Digger. "Can I ask what you're doing with Digger here?"

Digger eyed the sheriff coldly, scowling a little. "They're doing their job. They believe me, Sheriff."

"The FBI believes a dead man committed a murder?" Jody asked, arching a brow suspiciously. Alex inhaled sharply, taking in what she could. The woman wasn't a demon nor was anyone else in the area, but nevertheless, it made her nervous that this sheriff was asking so many questions. She was clever; most police they worked with completely bypassed them.

"We're just asking a few questions," Alex soothed, trying to figure out a way to get themself out of a potentially worrisome situations. "That's all. We're trying to figure out who murdered Mr. Sutton. Why would someone consider a dead man? If we figure out why Mr. Wells here believes a dead man committed the murder, then perhaps we can figure out who actually did."

Jody studied her closely for a few seconds and then asked suspiciously, "What'd you say your jurisdiction here was again?"

"Where the US government sends us," Dean said irritably, quickly getting annoyed with the interruption to their interview.

"Oh, yeah," she agreed. "How' bout me and your supervisor have a little chat about that?"

Alex faltered, but Dean answered confidently, giving Jody a smug little smirk as he passed her a business card that Alex hadn't known he'd had. She dialed the number on the card, putting the phone to her ear and stared at them both, narrowing her eyes. Alex knew what that look meant: _don't move or try anything._ "Agent Willis," she said suddenly, "this is Sheriff Jody Mills - Bobby?" There was a moment of silence. In that moment, Alex decided they were screwed. "Is this Bobby Singer? Bull crap. FBI, huh?" she added to the pair before her.

"Damn," Alex muttered under her breath. smiling faintly at the sheriff as she hung up. "So...you know Bobby Singer? What a funny coincidence."

She rolled her eyes. "Here's what I know about Bobby Singer. He's a menace around here, ass-full of drunk-and-disorderlies and mail fraud. You understanding me?" She glared at them until Dean and Alex hastily nodded. "Whatever the three of you are planning...it ends here. Now. Ten-four on that, Agents?"

Neither of them dared to disagree.

* * *

After going back to the Impala and greeting Sam before explaining the situation to him, they decided their best option was to head to Bobby's again and, if necessary, break in. The man had disappeared on them after letting them shelter Sam there, kicking them out for a few hunts. It didn't take them long to get there. And when they did, Dean burst through the door before Sam had even clambered out of the Impala, snapping at the startled wheelchair-bound hunter, "You know how many times we called, Bobby? Where the hell have you been?"

"Hullo, Bobby, hope you're doing well," Alex said kindly as she and Sam followed Dean inside, both grimacing at Dean's attitude. Bobby looked downright annoyed with Dean, even as he grudgingly waved at the other two. Before he could say anything, Alex wrinkled her nose. "Are you...is that soap? Did you clean?"

"What are you, my mother?" Bobby said, glaring at her. "Bite me!"

"Don't think you want that," Alex mused, earning an amused snort from Dean.

"I've been working," Bobby said, flustered. "You know, trying to find a way to stop the devil. Like the rest of you. And it's not like I found anything, so don't bother asking," he added when Dean opened his mouth.

"Bobby," Sam said, lifting his brows. "It's just...there's a case less than five miles from your hours."

"What, the Benny Sutton thing?" Alex narrowed her eyes when he took on a nervous look in his eyes, shifting uncomfortably. He was hiding something. She could _smell_ it. "That's what this is about? I checked into it already. Nothing here."

"Except a witness who saw a dead guy commit murder." Sam didn't look inclined to believe his father figure. Bobby looked at him, briefly confused. "Digger Wells is a witness. And what about the lightning storms that look like omens?"

"He's a drunk," Bobby said dismissively. "And lightning storms aren't an omen in this case, Sam, it's February in South Dakota - storm season. Guys, I thought it was something, too. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. This Benny Sutton guy was a grade-a son of a bitch. There's a list of the living a year long who wouldn't mind putting a cap on his ass."

Alex narrowed her eyes, growling under her breath. Bobby was behaving absolutely suspiciously and there was a scent she didn't recognize on him, mixed with that of dirt and what she believed might have been the old stench of death.

Dean looked disappointed by Bobby's lack of help. "So you're telling us nothing?"

"Sorry," Bobby said, not sounding sorry at all. "Looks like you wasted a tank of gas on this one."

Alex could tell that the older hunter was trying to get them out of his house as quickly as possible and was proved right when he shooed them out, closing the front door behind him when he usually would have let them stay as long as they saw fit. The second they were near the Impala, she spoke, her blue gaze locked on the old, creaking house. "Isn't the graveyard Mr. Thompson was buried at near here, Dean?"

"Yeah," he said, arching a brow. "So what?"

"Bobby already checked it out," Sam added, pointing the fact out calmly.

"And Bobby's never wrong?" Alex challenged. "Come on, boys. Why can't we take a peek and make sure everything's okay?"

Sam and Dean exchanged looks before nodding. "I guess," Sam said slowly, reaching for the Impala's passenger door, "it's better to be safe than sorry…"

* * *

Alex was pacing up and down the cemetery rows when Dean suddenly called in a low rumbling voice, "Sam ! Alex! Over here." She immediately abandoned the headstone she'd been inspecting curiously, noting the overturned soil, joining Dean. She glanced around to search for Sam; he was on the other side of the cemetery, starting for them.

She eyed the overturned soil at Clay Thompson's grade, her nostrils flared as she inhaled as sharply as she could. Dean eyed her, waiting to see if she had smelled anything, but she shook her head. "Nothing but dirt and death," she muttered, wrinkling her nose.

"Not your fault," Dean informed her and then jerked his chin at the dirt as Sam appeared at last. "That look fresh to you?"

"Yes," Sam said, running a hand through his hair. He grimaced. "Are we gonna dig it up?"

"Yeah. go get the shovels," Dean said, shoving his hands into his pocket. Sam strode off again and Alex reached for the hem of her shirt, fully intending to simply use her canine form to help dig, but Dean cleared his throat and shook his head. "You'll get in the way of the shovels."

Alex smirked at him almost playfully. "What's wrong, Winchester?" she purred. "Don't want to see my goods?" Even as she said it, however, a worried hint entered her voice. Was she not attractive enough for anyone to look at now? She'd done it before, knew that her scars were what they were and hadn't minded showing them, but...

Dean sputtered, not entirely pleased to have been asked such a question. But instead of saying either yes or no, he grumbled, "None of my business. None of it. Just want to figure out what's going on with Bobby and you'll slow us down right now."

She debated his answer, but Sam returned before she could decide what that meant entirely. Alex watched as he and Sam began the process of digging up Clay Thompson's coffin. When they'd succeeded, they used a crowbar to pry it open, fully intending to see some kind of decomposing corpse that would complete the mystery of what was going on. But it was empty, leading to more confusion.

"Something's going on here in Sioux Falls," Alex growled, pressing her lips together. "And I don't know about you two, but I think we need to speak with Mr. Thompson about how the bloody hell he came back from the dead."

Both Winchesters agreed and within the hour, they were pulling onto the side of a street before a house that was darkened. Alex swung out, breathing in sharply as Sam and Dean swung out, too, their hands checking to ensure they had all of the weaponry they needed. When the trio were ready, they headed for the house. Alex hung back as Dean picked the lock, scanning the area as she muttered, "He's here. I can smell him." And the fresh scent of grave soil, which made her worry about what Bobby was up to. She'd not yet told the Winchesters about that. "Be careful, he'll probably come after-"

She'd not finished her sentence, the three of them stepping inside, when Dean was tackled. Sideswiped, Dean hit the ground with a shout, and Sam was immediately reaching for his gun. Alex breathed in the smells of the rooms and then growled low in her throat as Dean wrestled to free himself, easily rolling to pin the man beneath him. Clay Thompson stared up at him in terror that increased ten-fold when he saw Sam's gun. "Don't shoot me, please! There's money in the safe."

"We don't want your money," Dean said, rolling in her eyes.

"You sure?" Alex muttered, "I thought we were surprisingly broke."

Ignoring Alex, Sam said, "You're Clay Thompson, right?"

Clay nodded desperately. "Who are you?" When Sam awkwardly labeled them as FBI, he gasped. "Oh, my God, FBI? This is about Benny, isn't it? He killed me! Shot me in the back! Why was I supposed to let him get away with that?"

Dean stared down at the man he knelt on. "Hold up. Are you...are you _confessing_?" He was astonished. People rarely outright offered up confessions to them in such a way. Maybe the guy was simply human and scared to die a second time?

"Please, I'll go with you," Clay said desperately. "To - to jail! Just...just don't wake up my kids.

Carefully, Alex squatted beside Dean and Clay, her elbows resting delicately on her knees to help her balance. Clay stared in outright horror at the scars on her face and she felt a stab of pain at the terror he showed, but hid her feelings as she said gently, "Just answer some questions, okay?" she said, hiding her accent. "You're Clay Thompson and you died five years ago?" He nodded. "And three days ago, you climbed out of your grave and proceeded to kill Benny Sutton?" He nodded again.

"A dead guy killed the guy who killed him then," Dean muttered and then let the guy up. A mere moment later, a nervous woman entered the room, wringing her hands. She stared in terror at Alex and Dean, and then at Sam.

"I...I called nine-one-one," she stammered to her husband.

"It's okay, honey," Clay said faintly. "They're the FBI, and they're here about Benny."

Sam awkwardly cleared his throat and proceeded to tuck his hands into his pockets as he opened his mouth to say something, but Dean cut him off rather coolly. "Mr. Thompson, I think it'd be best if you came with us."

"O-okay," whispered Clay. "Can I say goodbye to my wife?"

"Sure," Alex said before Dean could deny it to him. He seemed sane enough. She turned to Dean and Sam, who were eyeing her with matching expressions. "I'm going to go call Cas, see what he thinks about everything. I'll meet you at the Impala?"

"Sounds good," Sam agreed. He watched Alex duck out the front door and then folded his arms, glancing at his brother while Clay reached for his wife, speaking in gentle, soothing tones, promising that he'd be back shortly. "Dean," he warned.

Dean was staring after Alex, looking suddenly quite puzzled. But his expression cleared and turned to grim determination. "He's a monster," he said, careful so that they wouldn't be heard.

"He's a soccer dad, Dean," Sam replied quietly.

Annoyed, Dean stalked for the door, waving for the troubled Clay Thompson to follow him and Sam out the door. "What do you want to do with him then, Sam?" he retorted.

He'd taken all of one step out the door when there was a shout of "Freeze! Drop your guns!"

Dean immediately had his hands in the air. Bustling up behind him, Sam hastily did the same, recognizing the sheriff from earlier in the day before them. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean muttered, looking wary. This wasn't good. He spared a quick glance around. Alex was nowhere to be found. She wasn't even by the Impala, which was, at this point, a good thing. That meant she'd still be able to look around, because he knew without a doubt that they weren't getting out of this cuff-free. "Hey, remember the guy you said that was dead and couldn't possibly commit murder?" He used a thumb to jab in the direction of Clay. "There he is."

Jody Mills glared at them, her own gun lifted into the air and pointed at them. Dean kept his expression calm to avoid pissing her off more, breathing in and then out, one after the other. "And?" she said finally.

"'And?'" he repeated in disbelief. "You're welcome. For catching the undead killer zombie."

"Whatever he is or isn't...that doesn't give you the right to shoot him in the middle of the street." She stalked closer, narrowing her eyes as she pulled out a set of handcuffs. She didn't hesitate to cuff the suddenly cranky looking Dean Winchester. "You're free to go, Mr. Thompson," she told Clay kindly. Dean gave a cry of outrage and Jody ignored him, glaring at Sam. "Are you going to come along or do I need to cuff you, too?"

Sam kept his hands in the air. "I'll come," he said quietly, making sure to keep his eyes on Jody now that she was looking at him.

From where she was peering around the corner of the building, Alex grimaced in irritation, Bobby's number already dialed into her phone. She'd heard Jody Mills arrive and everything that had gone down. It only made her more suspicious that she could smell the scent of grave soil on the sheriff, even from where she sat. But she didn't make a move to approach anyone. Even as Clay Thompson suddenly informed Jody that there'd been another person with the two now loaded into the back of the cop car, a woman.

By the time she checked around the side of the house, Alex was gone.

* * *

Alex rapped her knuckles smartly on the door to Bobby's house, somewhat grateful that Castiel had decided to ignore her phone call. At least she didn't have to explain everything to him for now. She'd left a voicemail, hoping that Castiel knew how to work it. She was fairly certain he would.

No one answered the door and Alex knocked harder, growling. She'd called Bobby on her drive over, grateful that Dean had left the Impala's keys in the ignition. Clay Thompson had watched her go nervously, and she wondered if he'd called Jody Mills again. But no cop had ever shown up and Alex began counting to three. She wanted the Winchesters out of jail and she was confident Bobby could help her out with it.

 _One._ Alex began rolling up her sleeves, preparing for the inevitable break in she'd need to do. _Two._ She paused, listening for the familiar squeak of the wheelchair as she called, "Bobby Singer, I know you're in there!"

 _Three._

Alex reeled back, preparing to kick down the door, but the door flew open before she could and a cranky Bobby sat in his wheelchair. The familiar scent of grave soil washed over her, fresh and new, but Alex chose to say nothing about it. She did give him a glare for it, though. A glare that he returned. " _What_?"

"I need you to go to the police station with me," Alex huffed.

"You _what_?" Bobby sputtered. That had not been what Bobby expected her to say.

Alex rolled her eyes. "Sam and Dean got arrested by the local sheriff. Will you please go to the police station with me to free them?" She gave her best pleading puppy eyes, although she supposed the look was ruined by a blind eye and scars. Bobby rolled his eyes.

"What makes you think they need our help?" he said grumpily, but rolled himself out. He closed and locked the door behind them, and then let Alex take hold of the wheelchair to push him towards the Impala. She'd drive him and then, simply because her fellow hunters had been arrested, Dean and Sam were riding in the backseat when she drove him back.

"Because Jody Mills arrested them and I get the feeling that we should leave her alone," Alex said confidently. And she was serious. She felt as if she'd like the sheriff and her attitude if she'd not arrest them.

It took them a long twenty minutes to get to the police station, Alex tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as they went and when they got there, she carefully helped Bobby out, grabbing his wheelchair amongst thousands of complaints from Bobby. She endured the insults to her person he dished out, taking a deep breath to bite back insults she nearly began throwing out.

When they were ready, Alex wheeled him in and they were met by a surprisingly well-mannered sheriff. As if she'd known Bobby would be coming - with Alex, who she eyed suspiciously with a glare - Jody simply smiled and began chatting away. Bobby returned the chatter with ease and while they did so, Alex rolled her eyes and sniffed out Sam and Dean. She found them in a cell, and stood before it despite knowing she shouldn't have been there. "Look at you two," she said, voice full of amusement. "Being productive and keeping yourself out of prison."

Dean sent her a half-hearted glare. "Shut up," he grumbled, climbing to his feet. He caught sight of Bobby over her shoulder, chatting it up with the sheriff, and frowned. "Sheriff on the take?"

"What?" she said, entirely lost at what he meant.

Sam snorted and came to join them, leaning his shoulder against the bars. "No," he told Dean and then questioned, looking over Alex's head at the pair as his brother was doing, "Are they friends or something?"

Alex cocked her head, listening. "I dunno," she muttered, shrugging. "But they both smell of grave soil." It earned her a pair of curious looks and she tapped her nose. "I've been smelling it all over the place. It has a different smell than normal soil. You reeked of it for a long time after Cas brought you up from Hell," she informed Dean. "Bobby, Ms. Mills, Mr. Thompson...they all absolutely _reek_ of grave soil, boys."

"Interesting," Dean muttered, staring at Bobby.

It took a good half-hour for them to be released and when they were, it was with a warning glare on Jody's part and reluctance. Dean and Sam smiled charmingly at her, making sure they were on their best behavior for the entirety of the time that it took to get them out of the jail cell, but the second the three hunters were wheeling Bobby out of the sheriff's station, Sam said, "Bobby, I thought the sheriff hated you?"

Bobby let out a large gust of air. "She did until five days ago when the dead started rising all over town." He grimaced when they gaped at him, all stopping to stare. Alex growled a little, annoyed. She'd smelled it from the second that seen Bobby that first recent time, when he'd booted them from the house. "Don't growl at me, Alex. So what if I knew about it all?"

"You _lied_ ," she accused angrily. "Did you really think I wouldn't smell anything? That we wouldn't go looking?"

A wary look immediately appeared on Bobby's face. He knew that she knew, Alex decided. "Look, I told you there was nothing here and there isn't. Not for the three of you. Can I at least show you before you three idjits lose your minds and go around slaughtering people?" he demanded when Dean glared viciously at him, preparing to launch into a rant about what was happening.

"I guess," Sam grumbled. Dean said nothing, but Alex mumbled her agreement, still glaring at him.

They loaded Bobby into the Impala and Alex climbed into the driver's seat, somewhat surprised when Dean let her. He was too cranky to say anything, she thought, though he slammed the passenger seat's door when he climbed into it. Sam climbed in behind Alex, Bobby settled behind Dean. Alex drove carefully back to Bobby's under Bobby's demand.

As they drove, Bobby admitted that there were several people within town - previously dead - who'd come back to life, and other than Clay Thompson, none of them had actually gone around and killed anyone else. Dean didn't believe him, no matter how much he insisted that it was the case.

When they reached Bobby's, Dean stormed for the house with a scowl on his face. Alex grimaced, exchanging a glance with Sam, who hurried after him to try and convince him to stop and think for a moment, converse with them on everything. Dean was having none of it, merely stood there, stone-faced, by the front door until Alex wheeled Bobby inside with the two Winchesters a step behind.

Bobby pointed to the dining room and it was as Alex was wordlessly steering him there that a woman, carrying a plate full of breakfast food, appeared, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of people. "Oh! Hey, I didn't realize you were bringing company-" She cut off, looking alarmed when Alex began to growl low in her throat, the sound ripping from her like a vicious snarl.

"Cut it out," Bobby told the skinwalker. He looked back to the woman. "It's four a.m., Karen. You didn't need to cook."

"Oh, please!" Karen Singer, Bobby's once-dead wife, laughed, waving him off. "I'll get some more plates! There's plenty to go around." She passed Bobby the plate in her hands. "Seat yourselves." And then she was gone, whisking into the kitchen with a warm smile, blonde hair swaying at her shoulders.

"Bobby Singer," Alex snarled. "She reeks of gravesoil."

"That's Karen," he retorted, "my dead wife, so back off, Alex."

Karen settled them in for some food despite it being four in the morning, even scrounging up some apple pie for Dean. When she caught Alex eyeing the piece longingly, she found a second piece and placed it before the skinwalker, not batting an eye at Alex's scars and even complimenting her hair color. Alex dug right in, thinking Karen wasn't so bad despite her original thoughts on the situation.

The three hunters played along, smiling and thanking her for everything. It was when she left them to their own doing, to let talk without her around, that Dean lost his smile and said darkly, "Are you crazy? What the hell, Bobby?"

"Dean, I can explain," Bobby began, but Dean cut him off.

"Explain _what_? Lying to us? Or the American Girl zombie making cupcakes in your kitchen?" And that was exactly what Karen was doing, Alex realized, wrinkling her nose when she caught a whiff of baking goods.

"First of all, that's my wife," Bobby said through clenched teeth. "So watch it, Dean."

"Bobby, whatever that thing is in there," Sam commented, taking a bite of bacon, "that's not your wife."

Bobby bristled, glaring angrily at Sam for his words. "You think I'm an idiot, boy? My dead wife shows up on my doorstep and I'm not gonna test her every way I ever learned? She's got no scars, no wounds, no reaction to salt, silver, holy water...and she didn't crawl out of no damn coffin," he added before Dean could speak, "I cremated her. Somehow, some way...she's back."

Alex tapped her fingers in thought on the table, pressing her lips together. "Where'd you bury her ashes?"

"In the cemetery," Bobby answered. "That's where they all rose from. About fifteen or twenty, I made a list." He reached into his pocket, shuffling around before handing the list over to Sam. "Karen, Clay...Sheriff Mills's little boy came back."

That explained a lot about the sheriff, Dean thought as Sam asked rapidly, "No signs or omens?"

"There were the lightning storms, like you said, and, uh...I found something in the Book of Revelation." Bobby set his fork aside, squaring his shoulders as he looked at each of the three before him. "'And through the fire stood before me a pale horse. And he that sat atop him carried a scythe, and I saw since he had risen, they, too, shall rise, and from him and through him.'"

"Death," Alex breathed. "Right? Death is behind this. Lovely. Another bloody Horseman." She stabbed a piece of apple pie with her fork. "But why would he just raise fifteen people in a town like Sioux Falls? No offense, but there are bigger cities. L.A., Boston, New York City, Austin, the likes."

Bobby shrugged and Dean said quietly, "You know, if Death is behind this, then whatever these things are...it's not good. You know what we have to do here, Bobby."

Bobby immediately went on the defensive. "She doesn't remember anything. Being possessed, me killing her...her coming back." Alex stared at him in surprise, cocking her head as he spoke. Bobby looked desperate as he looked between them, almost begging for them to just let him have this one thing. "Just...just listen, okay? She hums when she cooks. She always...she always used to hum when she cooked. Tone deaf as hell, but… I never thought I'd hear it again." He looked close to tears and Alex set aside her plate and fork, feeling guilty. "Look, just...just read Revelations. I looked it over a thousand times. The dead rise during the apocalypse, but there's nothing in there that says that's bad! Hell, maybe it's the one good thing that comes out of this whole mess."

"What would you do if you were us, Bobby?" Dean said, surprisingly gentle with his words.

"I know what I'd do, and I know what you think you gotta do, but I'm begging you." He looked pleadingly at Dean, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "Please, boys, Alex. Please just...leave Karen be."

* * *

Rather than going to bed as she probably should have, Alex found herself outside,in the car Bobby had given her. It had been a long, long time since she'd even so much as looked at it, so she found that she was quite enjoying it. She'd stretched out sideways in the driver and passenger seats comfortable as could be.

She smelled and heard him coming before he appeared, leaning his elbows on the door and blocking the view of the sky with his head, so Alex didn't find herself alarmed when Dean showed up. "Can I help you?" she asked, arching a marred brow.

Dean thought it over for a few moments before letting out a large gust of air. "I don't want to leave Bobby at home with the bride of Frankenstein, but I don't like the idea of just blowing her away in front of him or something."

"Definitely a bad idea," Alex agreed. She sat up, waving for him to clamber in if he was interested. He did, settling in to the other seat in the vehicle. When was comfortable, too, she hummed, "I've been thinking of what I'd do if Matt's ashes had been put in the cemetery. If he'd come back. Or Ryss or Tessa or Hally. Avery, even. And I don't think...I don't think I could get rid of them. We're going to have to, of course, I can feel it, but...I feel Bobby's pain. I wouldn't want to lose my family, too. And he killed Karen, just like I killed Matt."

"Different," Dean said gruffly. "You were possessed. You didn't kill anyone."

"Technicalities," Alex said, waving him off. "It doesn't matter, I tasted his blood in my mouth. I killed him." It hurt her to say so, but she did. She cleared her throat, sitting back again. "And even if I didn't kill Matt, look at how many people I've killed elsewhere. Monsters are people, too, sometimes." She took a deep breath and then focused on the situation at hand. "In any case, if we don't need to kill Karen, we'll leave her be. But if she puts Bobby in danger, we'll deal with her."

"Sounds good to me," Dean agreed. He paused, and then asked, "The hell are you doing out here? Couldn't you think of all this inside?"

"I _could_ ," Alex retorted, "but the sky is pretty and I like to watch the sunrise. And if you're going to ruin my fun time, you can right on inside, you twit." She bit the inside of her cheek, locking her gaze on the lightening sky above her head. It was chilly, even for her, but she didn't mind the brisk feeling.

Dean chose to stay quiet, simply joining her in watching the sky. "Any word from Cas on Barachiel?" he asked suddenly.

"No," Alex replied. "I'm waiting still, but you know. Got my hex bag, got Cas keeping an eye out. Feelin' pretty safe from the bloody bastard. But I need to summon Gabriel, I think. Those things that angel said...they're pretty damn close to what Gabriel was hinting at. And I heard a while back that Gabriel was fairly good at handling Barachiel, so…"

"Ugh. I hate him," Dean grouchily said, but nodded in thought. "Might be a good idea though. Probably."

"I'll summon him after we're done figuring this mess out," Alex decided.

"We'll be there with you," Dean told her, and Alex flashed him a quick smile, relieved.

She found that she was quite fond of the eldest Winchester in that moment.

* * *

Alex decided to accompany Sam around the town of Sioux Falls to investigate the list Bobby had given them later in the day. They visited a variety of homes, one of which being the house of the Mills family. Alex felt a little bad, peeking through a window and seeing Jody so happily reading a book with her husband and son. "This sucks," Sam muttered, sneaking away. Alex agreed, pulling the Impala keys from her pocket.

The last house they chose to visit was that of a man named Ezra Jones. Sam glanced at his list to make sure they were at the right house, and then waved for Alex to keep close as he knocked on the door. "Mr. and Mrs. Jones?" he called, addressing the man and his returned-from-the-dead wife.

No one answered the door and Alex stopped Sam from knocking on the door again. Her face was cold, her teeth bared. "I smell blood, "she muttered.

Sam pushed the door open, shoving through the lock without hesitation.

They crept into the house, and Alex covered her nose when the reek of blood, gravesoil, death, and something else nearly smothered her. "Ezra?" Sam called as they made their way up a flight of creaky stairs. Alex removed her knife from its hiding place, a growl in her throat. "Ezra Jones?"

"Your right," Alex hissed from behind him. He went the way she told him to go and stopped just inside a door, moving aside so she could sneak in, too, She faltered at the sight before her, coughing a little when the smells overwhelmed her. An old lady was curled up in a bed, coughing into her hands. Foam flecked her mouth, as if she'd been poisoned by something. She pleadingly reached for them, her wrinkled hand shaking.

"Sam," Alex warned, but he moved over, sympathy on his face. "Sam, don't-"

She'd not finished her sentence before the old woman was launching herself at him. She slammed into him like a thrown boulder, knocking him down. Kneeling on his chest, she spat foamy snot-like gunk all over him, screaming. Alex lurched forward as he shoved her away with his hands on her chest, swearing loudly. Alex felt a stab of guilt as she slammed her blade as hard as she could into the woman's neck, the knife sinking in with ease. The woman thrashed with another scream, not at all concerned with what was happening to her.

It took Sam awkwardly removing his gun and shooting her through the head to kill her. She slumped, blood pooling around her. Alex wrinkled her nose at the sour smell it provided, helping Sam out from underneath her body. "You okay?" she asked, studying him as he wiped snot-like gunk from his face.

"Yeah," he breathed. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know," Alex said grimly, "but we need to go warn Dean and Bobby. There's a lot of those undead people around this town, and if they all turn like that...we're in trouble."

* * *

Dean was in a black mood the second he heard the news of what Sam and Alex had dealt with. Bobby looked admittedly worried and upset, although he was still defensive of his wife. After ensuring that Alex and Sam were both okay, Dean rounded on the Winchesters' father figure, scowling. "And you think," he barked, pacing the length of the study, "that there's nothing to worry about? That we should leave this alone?"

"Keep your damn voice down," Bobby retorted fearlessly, glaring angrily at the eldest Winchester. "Karen's upstairs."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he bit out sarcastically. "We're a little tense right now."

"Dean, that's not helping," Alex said with a heavy sigh, running a hand down her face. She turned her gaze on Bobby, speaking calmly and almost sympathetically. "Who's Ms. Jones?"

"The first one to come up. She was always a nutty broad," Bobby replied, looking and sounding much more pleasant.

Dean immediately narrowed his eyes. "Nutty how? Nutty like the way she ate her husband's stomach? Was that the level of nutty she was in life?" Bobby didn't answer, merely glaring at him. "Look, Bobby, we feel for you, but you've got to acknowledge that you're not exactly seeing this straight!"

Sam agreed, his eyes full of worry for him. "Bobby, whether you admit it or not, these...these people are turning. We have to stop them. All of them," he added quietly, glancing upwards to indicate Karen.

Immediately, Bobby was anything but happy. "Time to go," he said. Dean spluttered in surprise. "You heard me, boy, get off my property." He reached out and took a rather large shotgun that he kept on his desk regularly. They all tensed in shock. "If Karen turns, I'll handle it my way."

Dean shook his head and Alex said gently, "Bobby...this is dangerous-"

He cocked the gun with a lethal look in his eyes. "I ain't tellin' you twice."

"We're leaving," Sam muttered. "We're going, hold on." He grabbed Dean's shoulder and steered his glowering brother out of the living room. Alex murmured a farewell, looking at their friend worriedly before following suit. Dean shrugged him off the second they were outside, exploding like a grenade with a snarl of "He's crazy!" He stormed towards the Impala, but Sam and Alex exchanged uncertain looks. "It's his wife, Dean," Sam pointed out.

"So he goes 'Full Metal Jacket' on us?" Dean snapped. "We're his family, Sam. He practically _raised us_ , and he's more worried about his undead wife!"

Alex eyed him. She wouldn't say it was jealousy that drove Dean to such rage for the moment. No, she'd seen this type of anger when Sam was doing something dangerous. He was worried. "Look," she said quietly, "there are a lot of these...zombies that are about to turn and start killing people. We need to deal with that."

"And Bobby's alone in the house making pie with one of them!" Dean retorted, glaring at her. "So I'm gonna go back in there and…" He faltered now, admittedly feeling guilty. "I'm gonna kill her. It's the only thing I can think of."

"If you get caught, you're a dead man." Sam didn't like the idea either, but silently agreed that it was their best option of keeping the apparently suicidal Bobby Singer alive.

"I guess I won't let him see me," Dean said firmly.

"Then I'll head to town and rescue everyone else," Sam said a little sarcastically. "Should be easy, right?" He pressed his lips into a tight line and folded his arms, fuming a little irritably until Alex touched his arm comfortingly and murmured that she'd accompany him. She looked unhappy with just about everything at the moment.

"What about the sheriff?" Dean asked suddenly. "You're gonna have to work real hard to convince her. She was pretty pro-zombie."

"We'll figure it out," Alex said confidently, smirking. Her good eye flickered with determination. "I don't know what it is, but I like Sheriff Mills. And there's no way in bloody hell I'm letting her get eaten by her undead son."

* * *

Draping a blanket over her incredibly ill son, a sense of terror racing through her, Sheriff Jody Mills murmured soothingly, "There. Does that feel better, Owen?" She dropped a hand to his head, wincing at the heat that radiated from it, even as she smoothed back his hair.

The boy nearly sobbed. "I'm so hungry, Mommy."

"I know, I know. Mommy will make you some soup, okay?" Her voice quavered as she dropped a quick kiss onto his forehead and then strode for the kitchen. She had just finished heating up a bowl of chicken noodle soup when her husband strode into the kitchen, speaking into the phone with a troubled look.

"I don't know what else to tell you, Doc," Sean Mills said, running a hand through his hair. "We checked the thermometer three times - even bought a new one. His temperature is one-hundred-eleven degrees." They winced when their son called for his mother and Jody's husband passed over the phone after telling the doctor to hold on. "Can you take this to him?" Jody asked, handing him a bowl of soup.

Her husband smiled warmly at her and then went to do just that. Jody put the phone to her ear, sighing. "Dr. Dwight, it's Jody Mills." She shifted the phone to her ear. "I don't know how to explain the fever, Dr. Dwight, that's why we're calling-" A huge crash came from the living room and worry spiked through her. Dropping her phone, she hurried into the living room. "Sean?" she called. "Owen? Where are-"

She stilled, horror spilling into her as she stared at her husband's body. Sean's eyes stared blankly at her, blood pooling around him. What scared her even more, however, was the sight of her beloved Owen stuffing handfuls of Sean's flesh into his mouth as if he was nothing but dinner. A hand covered her mouth as she breathed, "Oh, my God."

Owen stood up, eyes narrowing a little, and took merely one step towards her before the door flew open. Jody's head snapped around to find the woman who'd come into the police station with Bobby Singer, standing there with a grim look. She latched her half-blinded gaze onto the sheriff and then lurched forward as Owen stretched out his arms desperately, foam flecking his mouth.

"Let's go!" she ordered, wrapping an arm around Jody and bodily shoving her back. She turned her head back to shout for someone by the name of Sam, and one of the men she'd arrested at Clay Thompson's place appeared. He took one look at the situation, gaze darkened, and then helped her yank the sheriff out of the house.

"No," Jody snarled, fighting to go back in. "My husband-"

"Leave it!" Sam barked back, pushing her towards the car. "He's dead."

"That was not my son," she whispered.

"You're right," the woman murmured. "It wasn't." She took her by the shoulders, giving her a gentle shake. Sam kept an eye on the porch door. "Listen, Sheriff Mills, your town is in danger. People are in danger, and we need to help them now. All right? Can you do that for us?" She began to shake her hand, but the woman shook her again. "Can you focus on me? Sheriff?"

"How do we put them down?" Jody said blankly.

"A head shot," Sam said, showing her his own gun.

"We're gonna need weapons then." Jody ran a shaking hand down her face, tears gathering in her eyes. She pushed them back.

"We can start by rounding up everybody we can find," Sam told both women, his dark eyes troubled. "Where is there a safe place we can take people?"

"Jail," she told him bluntly.

The scarred woman gave a startled laugh and then exchanged a look with Sam, who nodded curtly, looking a little upset by something. "Give me a moment," he murmured, turning to the house. Jody's face paled when she realized what he intended to do, but she couldn't bring herself to stop him as the woman, who introduced herself as Alex, turned her away and nudged her further from the house.

Jody flinched at the sound of a gunshot, and a moment later, Sam came back, face set in a grim expression. "Alex," he said, and she looked to him. "Take Dean's car back to Bobby's. Dean can handle Karen, but...I don't know if he can protect Bobby, too."

"On it," she agreed. "Be careful." She smiled faintly at them both and then swung into the driver's seat of the Impala. Within moments, she was racing down the street, the purr of the engine in their ears.

Sam turned to Jody. "Can I drive?" he said, holding out her car keys. She blinked. He must have grabbed them while he was inside. "We need to get moving before anyone else dies."

"...yes," she murmured and started for her car.

* * *

Alex found herself miserable the entire drive back to Bobby's. She felt bad for the sheriff; her son had been shot, her husband ate by said son before her very eyes. But she forced herself to focus. They had more important matters to worry about. She touched the gun that she'd loaded with lead bullets before she'd entered the Mills' house, pressing her lips together. She didn't want to shoot undead children, but if she had to...she would.

She rolled into the salvage yard that surrounded Bobby's house. She stepped out with urgency, inhaling sharply for Dean's scent and coming up with the faintest traces, only to freeze when there was a shout of Dean's name. She took grabbed the keys, slammed the Impala door shut, and ran, already cocking her gun.

She stumbled to a brief halt when she found Bobby and Dean fighting furiously in the front yard. They were being overwhelmed, she realized, staring at all of the confusion for a moment. Dean was seemingly dealing with the undead that attacked him, shooting one after the other, but Bobby had run into trouble: one had managed to tackle him, knocking him out of the wheelchair.

She hastily lifted her gun, firing off a single shot and then another. The zombie dropped after the third try, dead. "Bobby?" Dean called, stepping over a body. Worry filled his voice.

"Little help here?" he snarled, frustrated. Alex darted over as Dean went to work on helping Bobby back into his wheelchair, handing the older huner his gun. She reached them quickly, breathless.

Deciding to figure out what had happened and why Alex was back later, when they weren't struggling to keep themselves alive, Dean only asked her curtly, "You okay?" She nodded; she was fine, entirely unharmed. "Let's go get more guns then."

Neither Bobby or Alex disagreed. Alex wheeled Bobby into his home, choosing not to say a word about the lack of Karen. Dean was only a step behind, gun ready as he guarded them. Once inside, they bolted the doors and began the process of locking up the house. When it was done, Dean turned to Bobby, eyes blazing. "Got any more ammo?"

"Yeah, we got plenty," Bobby said somewhat bitterly. "Just rub back past the zombies. It's in the van, where we left it. Where's Sam?"

"A simple 'no' would have sufficed," Alex chided and then folded her arms. "I left Sam with Jody Mills. Her son killed and ate her husband. We got there as he was going after her. Sam dealt with the boy and the two of them are going to get everyone to the police station."

Dean nodded his approval and then jolted when there was the sound of breaking glass filled his ears. They all stared at one another in disbelief. "I'm out," Dean said suddenly, and the other two nodded. Alex grabbed Bobby's wheelchair and shot for a closet, deciding it was the safest place for the time being. Alex made an odd sound in the back of her throat when she found herself squished rather tightly between Dean and the wall, the other hunter shoving her further in so he could close the door behind him. Dean locked it behind him and they all let out a nervous breath when the zombies that had broken into Bobby's house began to bang on the doors.

"Kind of tight fit, don't you think?" Bobby said, eyes glinting with amusement despite the situation.

"It's all right," Dean reassured as he ignored Bobby's comment. "They're idiots. They can't pick a lock."

The pounding stopped and Alex stared incredulously, fingers tightening around her gun, as the handle of the closet door began to jiggle. "Seriously?" she spat, glaring at him. "You just had to go and jinx it."

"I'm making this up as I go!" he protested. "Sue me!" He took the shotgun in his hand and turned it in time for the door to fly open, nearly ripped off its hinges. He slammed a zombie in the head with the butt of the shotgun, and Alex lifted her gun and fired off a few shots before her gun signaled it was empty. "Damn it, Alex!"

"Why are you blaming me for my gun being empty when it was all to save your bloody arse?" she shrieked angrily.

"Get down!"

Alex was the only one to hear over the sound of the undead screaming and Dean's swearing, and she didn't hesitate to reach up and grab Dean's head by the hair on the back of it. She shoved it down just as gunshots rang out, the zombies collapsing after a few more. Dean smacked Alex's hand away with a glare, rubbing his sore scalp.

Sam lowered his shotgun, and beside him, Jody gave a shaky sigh as she did the same beside him. "Are you three okay?" he demanded.

"Yeah, except for Alex tearing my hair out," Dean grumbled.

Alex rolled her eyes.

* * *

Alex could see the smoke from pyres billowing into the air under the supervision of Jody. Sam and Dean had accompanied Bobby, who they'd all found out had shot Karen himself at her request. Alex had felt horrible upon hearing that. She knew what it was like to kill the ones you love and the emotions that came with it.

She'd not wanted to see the dead faces and rather than hanging around, had gone to sit on the hood of her car again. She was watching the clouds overhead, listening to the approach of Sam and Dean as they spoke and contemplated where they should go next. She could hear the strained undertones - something had been said and it was affecting future plans.

They'd just reached her, Sam declaring "I don't like that they're going after everyone else because of me!" when her phone rang. Alex sat up, waving for silence from the bickering brothers, and lifted her phone to her ear, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Hello?" she hummed. "Alex Montgomery speaking."

"...Alex? Alex, can you hear me? It's...it's Avery."

Alex lost the amused smile that had danced over her features as Dean tried to trip Sam while simultaneously looking falsely innocent. She sat up, swinging her legs over and hopping off the car. "Who is this?" she spat, catching the boys' attention. Dean lost his smirk and became serious. "This isn't funny. She's dead. She's been dead for months."

"No. I'm not, but…" There was a muffled sob on the other end. "Please. It hurts. It hurts. I can't move. I don't...please, I don't know where I am."

Alex bristled, unsure of how to respond. There were plenty of creatures that could replicate voices, so she wasn't entirely sure of what to believe at the moment. Avery Hunt had been dead. That's what the demons had told her. No one had ever found a sign of anything different. When Alex had asked Castiel, he'd merely said that he had no answer regarding the matters before moving on.

"Alex?" Sam asked, worried. "What's wrong?"

The skinwalker held up a finger to silence him. "I'll come and find you." She wouldn't bring Sam for sure, nor Dean. Dean could be used to bribe Sam and vice versa. And, if it really was a demon or something working for Lucifer, Sam didn't need to be anywhere near there. She'd put Castiel on alert. "Can you find anything that might tell you where you are? What are your surroundings?"

"Alex," Dean warned, but she glared at him and waved for him to shut up.

"There's...grass. Dead grass everywhere." Avery sniffled, voice hoarse - and weak, Alex noted. "Prairie?"

"Okay, then if you're in the States, it's likely the Great Plains. That's good, that means you could be close by." Alex began to pace, taking a few steps in one direction and then a few in the other, pivoting on her heel. Sam and Dean watched her impatiently. "Anything else?"

Silence for a few moments, and then Avery spoke again. "There's these...rock things. They look like miniature...versions of the Grand Canyon." Her voice was softer now, slurred.

"Okay. Just hang on, I'll look into it," Alex said. "I'll come and find you, okay? I'll find you."

She hung up and then let out a big gust of air before going to work, typing furiously on her phone.

"Alex?" Dean repeated. "What's going on?"

"Avery's alive apparently," she said, not looking up from her phone. Both Winchesters gaped at her as she put the phone back to her ear, praying desperately that Castiel would answer. "I don't know if it's really her, but I'm not risking it. Not if she's alive. She's hurt. She mentioned prairie and weird canyon-like features in the ground. Do you guys know of anything? Damn it!" she spat when Castiel's strange voicemail filled her ears. She nearly threw her phone.

"Sounds like the Badlands to me."

Alex's head snapped up at Jody's words, startled. She'd been so focused she'd not heard Jody coming. Jody looked exhausted, shadows beneath her eyes. Her son and her husband were gone now, Alex remembered. The sheriff sighed heavily. "Try the Badlands. It's just under four hours if there's no traffic."

Alex studied her face and then nodded curtly. "Thank you," she said hoarsely and then darted for the house to fetch her keys. When she came back, she had her duffel shouldered.

Dean cut her off before she could try and get in her convertible. "You're not going alone," he said firmly, clearly not thinking it was a good idea. "Not after what happened here. Bobby and Sam and I...we think that the zombies were hitmen for Bobby. Lucifer's treat. We think he's targeting people Sam care about. This could be a trap."

"I know that," Alex spat, "and if it's not, Avery dies. I won't lose another person. I _won't_." She tried to shove past him, and he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her back without hesitation. "Dean," she snarled. "Move. It's February in South Dakota, she could freeze to death before I get there."

"Alex," Sam said hesitantly. "Seriously, you shouldn't go alone." He folded his arms uncomfortably when she turned a murderous look on him. "What happens if it's a trap? Where are we supposed to even begin figuring out where to find you?"

Alex lost her temper, frustrated that they weren't letting her get on with her rescue. "Well, the world's going to hell in a bloody handbasket anyways, so I can't say I'd mind going to my death thinking I'm helping someone I care about!" she snarled loudly. She huffed and puffed for a few seconds, scowling viciously before forcing herself to calm down. Fighting wasn't going to do anything for any of them. Jody looked uncomfortable from where she stood, eyeing the house and debating if she could escape.

Running a hand down her face, Alex said, voice muffled by her hand, "Please. Please. I can't take you two because if it is a trap, it's just going to be good for Lucifer. You," she said, pointing to Sam, "I'd just be handing over and you," she turned her finger on Dean, "would be able to get him there if he heard they had you."

Sam gave her an exasperated look. "Alex, seriously? Do you not think we won't come and help you out, too?"

She looked taken aback by the realization. She'd not even considered that they'd do the same for her that she'd seen them do for each other - what she'd done for them, too. Clearing her throat, she just said, "Please? You two can keep chasing Lucifer and after I figure out what's going on, I'll call you and we can meet up. I won't...I promise I won't go anywhere near her without backup."

Dean looked downright pissed off now, his jaw working furiously as he glared at her. "And who the hell is gonna be your backup if we're running around like chickens with our heads cut off, Alex?"

"Barachiel?" she said faintly, shrugging. "Castiel if he'll pick up his phone? I'll lie to Barachiel if I need to, say you have what he wants. He can have it if he does what I want." Shaking her head, she met his gaze and stared at him pleadingly.

Sam arched a brow at the staredown that then commenced. Neither looked away for a few moments - what seemed like minutes - and then finally, Dean groaned. "Fine," he muttered, stepping aside. She threw her duffel in and before she could hop into the driver's seat, he caught her arm and said, "You've got twenty-four hours. You haven't called by then, we're comin'."

Alex shocked them all by throwing her arms around his neck in a tight hug. "Thank you," she muttered in his ear. He tensed, shocked. And then she was in her car, starting the engine.

As he stared, watching her car disappear down Bobby's long driveway, Sam suddenly grinned widely at his brother despite the worry still in his eyes. "What's wrong, Dean? You've got this weird look on your face...you and Alex got something you want to tell me?"

Dean scowled and swatted Sam's head before heading for the house, fully intending to find some alcohol.

* * *

 _A half-original chapter's coming! I came up with this idea after releasing last chapter and am now excited to write it. ;) And what's this? Avery's alive? Explanations will come. Maybe next chapter, maybe further on. Who knows?_

 _Thanks to reviewers (Savage Kill andemily 2696!) as well as those who favorited and followed! I treasure you all!_


	43. Dark Side of the Moon

From where she stood outside her cherry-red vehicle, Alex stared at the Badlands in absolute horror. They were massive. There were so many places, she realized, spinning in a slow circle. So, so many places that Avery could be. It was pitch black out and she didn't even know where to begin searching. Miles and miles of prairie and crevices, and to make matters worse, when Alex had dialed the number Avery had called her on, there'd been no answer. She was likely unconscious.

And there was snow in the air. She could smell it.

Raking her hand through her short hair, Alex debated what to do. She'd called Castiel. The angel had ignored her call for some reason, and she'd cursed his name. He'd been doing that a lot lately, when they needed him. Which left one choice that she wasn't looking forward to.

Or...two.

She smirked at her own thoughts although her smirk vanished as she realized just how risky her second choice would be. She knew _nothing_ about Gabriel's motivations, nothing about just how they were connected although she so wanted to find out after the events with Cupid. But he was most certainly better than Barachiel, could even fend off the other archangel if he showed up.

Clenching her jaw, she made her decision. Alex took a deep breath before getting to work, stepping away from her car. She removed the hex bag from her pocket and tucked it into her car, taking a few steps away. It was a risk, she knew. Gabriel could turn around and hand her over to other angels or something even worse after everything she'd done to him. But she'd take that risk. For Avery's sake, she'd take the risk.

"Gabriel!" she shouted, studying the skies above her head. She shivered at a brisk chilly breeze that kissed her cheeks. She _had_ to find Avery, and fast. " _Gabriel!_ "

"No need to shout," purred the archangel from behind her. She spun on her heel and found him leaning against the door of her car, the hex bag in his hand. He was tossing it up and down, snatching it out of the air before it could get too far. A smirk resided on his mouth, his brown eyes glimmering with amusement. "Hello, Alex."

Alex's shoulders tightened as she eyed him nervously. "Hullo," she responded curtly a moment later. She folded her arms tightly as Gabriel pushed himself off of the car. He sauntered over, a smug look on his face.

"What can I do for you on this fine February day?" he hummed, eyeing the Badlands with thought. "Lovely spot for a meetup. Kind of cold, isn't it? Do the boys know you're doing this? I didn't know you were so into angels."

Ignoring his statements, Alex said quite bluntly, "Help me find Avery Hunt. She's out here, but I need your help to find her. I can't smell her from here and I can't search the entirety of the Badlands before the snow starts to fall. It's already been a few hours since I heard from her. Please. _Please_ , Gabriel. I'll owe you." It wasn't a good idea to promise him anything, she knew. But it was all she could do.

Gabriel hummed a show tune under his breath as he considered it, still tossing that hex bag up and down and up and down and up and-

"All right," he finally decided, tucking the hex bag into his pocket with a gleam in those brown eyes that made her absolutely terrified for some reason. "I'll help you. On the condition that you help me with something after Avery Hunt is safe somewhere."

"Bobby Singer will help her," Alex said confidently, although she worried that Bobby's wouldn't even be a good idea. After everything that had happened with his undead wife, he'd been a bit of a disaster and she wasn't entirely sure he'd be capable of helping _anyone_ right now. But he was her best shot. Alex added hastily upon thinking of it, "Could you tell me if she's possessed or something so that we can save time?"

"Why not?" Gabriel said with a smirk.

"You try anything funny," Alex said warningly, tapping the inside of her arm, "I will _end_ you. Are we clear?"

"You've got a funny way of asking for help, Alex," he replied, his smirk widening into a grin. But he agreed nonetheless and then turned to look out over the Badlands thoughtfully. Alex wasn't sure what he was doing, but something told her that it was him doing what she needed him to do, so she left him to it. Her fingers twitched every now and then, impatience running rampant. She just wanted to save Avery - if it really was Avery, after all.

For all she knew, it wasn't Avery, just someone pretending to be her.

Suddenly, Gabriel perked up. "One valkyrie," he said, "coming up."

"Wait, what?" Alex demanded and then squawked when he suddenly snatched up her arm, the world tilting around them. Gabriel's traveling through nothing, as she liked to think of it, wasn't like Castiel's. Perhaps it was on purpose. Castiel just disappeared and reappeared and if you were with him, it was the same. Other angels had been like that, too, so Alex confirmed to herself that the way the world tilted around and around was done on purpose.

She hit the ground on her knees, sick to her stomach, the world spinning as if she was near blackout drunk.

"Gabriel," she seethed, fighting back a groan, but the archangel had abandoned her to kneel over the unconscious form of one Avery Hunt. Fighting back her sudden feeling of illness, Alex lurched to her feet, desperately worried about her friend. "Is she-"

"No," Gabriel said, eyeing the scars and wounds littering Avery's naked skin. She wore no clothes, and Alex didn't hesitate to remove her leather jacket and toss it over her in an attempt to keep her warm. Alex shivered, but payed herself no attention. "She's not possessed. Hell of a job done on her though."

Alex bit back a whine as she realized she could count ribs. Months, Avery had been thought dead. _Months_ at the hands of what Alex guaranteed were demons. She checked Avery's pulse. It fluttered weakly beneath her fingertips. "She's alive," she breathed in relief.

"Barely." Gabriel was incredibly unhelpful, Alex decided with a growl.

"She's dehydrated and could definitely use some food," Alex murmured, ignoring him. She smoothed Avery's hair back and then began the hard work of hauling Avery into her arms. She staggered a little, scowling. She was stronger than most. She knew it was something that sometimes bothered the Winchesters, much to her amusement. She'd never forget the look on Dean's face when she beat him at an arm-wrestling match. Avery's weight had merely thrown her off; she was far lighter than Alex had planned.

Avery groaned softly against her shoulder and Alex turned on her heel towards Gabriel, who'd hung back quietly, watching intently as Alex did what she needed to do. He was behaving surprisingly well, she thought suspiciously. Just what did he want her help with to return the favor? Gabriel smirked to himself and reached out to touch her shoulder, but Alex stepped back. "Can you get my car?"

He rolled his eyes, mocking, "Demanding, aren't you? I'll get your car. Don't fret your little head, sweet cheeks."

"Call me that again," Alex said sweetly, "and I'll make sure that _your_ little head is rolling on the ground."

Gabriel snickered and then the world tilted around them.

* * *

From the second he came into awareness after a night of drinking, Dean knew something was off. There was a tense feeling to the room that hadn't been there the night before, when he'd drunk himself into oblivion. It certainly helped him notice the ragged breathing that was hoarse and unhealthy, clearly not his younger brother. Sam wasn't sick. Not like that.

Dean's hand had been seeking out the gun under his pillow when a voice said icily, "Looking for this?"

Dean slowly turned over, sitting up. Sam was sitting calmly on the edge of the second bed, though there was a nervous look in his dark eyes. A gun was pointed at him. "Mornin'," Dean said, trying for a bit of lighthearted humor.

"Shut up," the man who'd spoken snapped. "Hands where I can see 'em." His face face was hidden with a mask, but Dean could picture the rage beneath it.

Dean put his hands up where he could see them and then frowned, realizing he recognized the masked man. "Wait a minute," he said gruffly, gaze locked on the one with his gun pointed at him. "Is that you, Roy? It is, isn't it." Sam stiffened nearby when Dean turned his attention on the other masked man. "Which makes you Walt. Hiya, Walt."

They exchanged a quick look and then removed their masks. Both men were middle-aged, their cheeks and chins covered in stubble. There were creases etched into their faces. Neither seemed to care that Dean or Sam knew who they were. Dean kept his voice surprisingly pleasant, keeping his mind on the matter at hand after noting that it was a good thing Alex wasn't around. They would have killed her outright. "Well, is it just me," Dean drawled mockingly, "or do you two seem a tad upset?"

"You think," Walt snarled, glaring viciously at Sam, "that you can flip the switch on the apocalypse and just walk away, Sam?" Sam said nothing, working his jaw. Dean felt himself tense when Walt pumped the shotgun in his hand, cocking it. He would kill for his brother - he'd done it before. "We ain't the only hunters after you. See you in the next life."

Sam rose to his feet slowly, hands up. "Hear me out, I can explain-"

Dean could only stare in horror when Walt pulled the trigger, the shotgun blast slamming into his little brother and sending his massively tall frame crashing to the ground. "Sam!" he shouted, lurching to go after him.

"Stay the hell down!" Roy barked. Walt told him to shoot Dean, but he faltered. "Killin' Sam was right, but Dean…"

Walt scowled. "He made us," he snapped, "and we just snuffed his brother, you idiot. You want to spend the rest of your life knowing Dean Winchester's on your ass? 'Cause I don't. We've got enough to worry about with that damn bitch of a skinwalker not being here. Shoot 'im."

Dean's face darkened with fury as he remained standing, slowly folding his arms as he turned to look at Roy. Roy's face paled a little bit at the look in the elder Winchester's eyes. "Go ahead, Roy," he said in a voice that was soft yet promised violence at a later time. "Do it. But I'm warning you, when I come back I'm going to be pissed. And you know what? Guaranteed Alex will be, too." He'd not thought much of the skinwalker when she'd first first begun tagging along with he and Sam. Well, actually, he guessed he'd made her join them, suspicious that the second she was left to her own devices innocent people would start dying.

But she'd become quite a bit part of their lives. She'd nearly died for he and Sam, and Dean wouldn't hesitate to put his life on the line for her now a days, too.

Roy's face paled in terror, and Dean smirked, throwing his arms out. "C'mon!" he shouted, daring him to shoot him. He'd died and come back before. There was no way in hell that they'd stay dead - not with what the angels wanted them for. "Let's get this show on the-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence.

Walt fired off the shot and Dean hit the ground as his brother had.

Dead.

* * *

"You're insane, you know that, Alex?" Bobby said grouchily from where he was waiting beside the side of the couch the next morning, eyes locked onto Avery. After Alex had kicked in the front door and shouted for Bobby - scaring the daylights out of him in the process - they'd tended to her injuries. Gabriel had left them to it after smirking at Bobby upon being introduced, going to wait outside without a care in the world. "Showin' up at my door with someone who's supposed to be dead after everything you guys said is one thing. Wanna hit you for it, but I guess it's okay since she was never dead in the first place. Showin' up in my house with an archangel you guys said wasn't trustworthy is a different thing."

"He hates the apocalypse just as much as we do, to be fair," she mumbled in response, keeping her voice low just in case Gabriel decided to just pop in. "And there's so much that's been hinted at regarding him...I need to speak with him about it, Bobby. I had my reasons for summoning him. Or calling on him, I guess, I didn't have to summon him, actually. But it was either him or Barachiel and I can tell you which of the two is going to be more pleasant to deal with. And he won't hurt Avery like I think Barachiel would. I have this feeling that he wouldn't." She took a deep breath, touching the unconscious woman's cheek. "I don't know what he wants in return for helping me find Avery, but I'll deal with it when it happens."

"Just don't get yourself into trouble, Alex," Bobby said. "I'll keep an eye on Avery. What'd you say he said?"

"He said something about a valkyrie," Alex said slowly, glancing at Avery again. "Is that...I don't know if it means anything about Avery. I've never come across a valkyrie before. And she's always smelt odd compared to other humans...it would explain that."

Bobby let out a large gust of air, shaking his head. "I don't know what to tell you. Just stay on your toes. Don't worry about Avery. I'll keep an eye on her, like I said. I'll do some research about valkyries, too. You worry 'bout yourself, ya hear? I'll let the boys know what's going on, too. And I'll see if I can get Cas around for once."

Alex nodded and then stood swiftly. "Thank you, Bobby," she said, touching his arm briefly. "I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?" She offered a faint smile and then swept her hands up and down her arms as she made her way out of the house. It didn't take her long to track down the archangel, and she was surprised when she saw him just standing in the middle of the yard, his head tilted back to study the morning's blue sky. She and Bobby had worked through the rest of the night, she realized, startled.

"What are you doing?" she said, clearing out her thoughts. She needed to keep her wits about her when it came to Gabriel.

Gabriel didn't look at her, head tilted a little. "Listening," he said. "The angels are in an uproar."

"Why?" She went to stand beside him. Alex studied the side of his face, narrowing her eyes when a dark expression appeared on his face. "Something big happened, am I right?"

Gabriel didn't speak for a long few moments, and then he said, "Sam and Dean Winchester are dead."

"That's not funny," Alex said hoarsely as she stared at him in outright shock. "That's...that's not funny at all, Gabriel."

"I'm not joking," he retorted, glaring at her. His eyes blazed with anger, although it did make her wonder _why_ he was so angry about the matter. Gabriel scowled furiously. "Zachariah's work, I think, although I'm not sure."

Alex released a dangerous snarl from low in her chest, her hands shaking with rage. "I can't wait to rip that twat to pieces," she seethed. At the same time that she felt her immense anger, she felt such a stabbing agony of grief and loss that she wanted to curl into a ball and simply cry.

Death in the hunting profession was a common thing. If you were a hunter, you faced death every day. You looked it in the face and laughed at it before going to find another way to almost get yourself killed. But the Winchesters...they were supposed to be undefeatable. The vessels of Michael and Lucifer. They'd been legends among the hunters - she had heard their names once or twice before she'd even come to the States. They'd both come back from the dead at some point or another, something she couldn't say she'd done herself.

She found herself desperately hoping that it happened again, although she couldn't convince herself to get her hopes too high. It was never a good idea. She ran her hands down her face, her good eye burning.

Gabriel eyed her for a few moments and then asked suddenly, "You gonna cry, sweet cheeks?"

"Call me that again," she spat, "and I'll make _you_ cry when I chop off your-"

"Alex."

She spun around, caught by surprise when Castiel's voice called her name. He had materialized behind her with a concerned look that turned into wariness when he realized that Gabriel was with her. Gabriel smirked at him. "Hello, Gabriel," Castiel said carefully, making sure to remain polite despite his tensed form. He was wary, knew that the other angel was stronger than he was.

"Gabriel said that Sam and Dean are dead," Alex said softly.

Castiel nodded curtly. "He speaks the truth," he replied, looking bothered. "If they are in Heaven, though, I believe I can get into contact with them." Alex's eyes widened in surprise. He _could_? Castiel paused, and then cautiously asked, "Gabriel, why are you here?"

Gabriel smirked in response, rocking back on his heels. "Alex needed help. We have an agreement. Don't worry, I'm not putting anyone into a car or killing your favorite boy toy a thousand times." He smirked, entirely amused with the memory, and Alex bristled at him. That repeated Tuesday had most certainly been one of the worst experiences in her life. Dealing with both Sam and Dean had been a nightmare for such a long time afterwards.

Alex gave Castiel an exasperated look when he frowned deeply. "Are you serious? You not once checked your voicemail? I _called_ you. Before I even considered anyone else, too."

"Oh." Castiel paused. "I've been busy."

"Busy enough to not show up when someone probably put a bullet through your friend's head?" she snapped grouchily. Castiel grimaced, looking a little hurt by that, but Alex didn't apologize. Instead, she said tersely, "Avery showed up out of nowhere, naked in the middle of the Badlands. She called on a phone that Bobby's checking through. You never told me she was a valkyrie."

"I wasn't aware that you didn't know. There are more important matters now. What did you agree to do for Gabriel?" Castiel was alert now, paying close attention. His blue eyes darted between the pair and Alex felt a little touched when he gave the smirking Gabriel a warning glare. As if he'd try and throw down with the archangel if he'd made her promise to do anything horrible.

"Good question," she mused, eyeing Gabriel. "What did I agree to do?"

"Something that might work out in your favor, little skinwalker," Gabriel purred. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "And Castiel's, too." He winked flirtily at Castiel, who didn't respond in the slightest.

Alex made a frustrated sound, rolling her eyes to the skies above. "Then stop procrastinating on what it is and just tell us. I have some hunting to do." Her face turned cold, a murderous expression entering her gaze as she folded her arms tightly across her chest. "I doubt Zachariah did the dirty work himself."

Gabriel's grin widened. "I like your attitude, Alex," he purred before cocking his head. "It only requires a little bit of bargaining on my behalf."

"One, that's not what I told you to do. I told you to start explaining. Two, hell no." Alex was firm in her decision. "I don't go to Heaven. I don't know where I go, but it's not Heaven. Or Hell. So I'm avoiding death as long as I can."

"Even if it involves permanently dealing with your Barachiel problem?"

Castiel perked up a little and Alex focused entirely on him. Perhaps Gabriel could give some explanation on what Barachiel wanted with Castiel's coat and why he was so threatening about not having his way. She narrowed her eyes at him and leaned in. "I'm listening…"

* * *

Dean grinned up at the dark sky, watching as color exploded between the stars with a loud crack. He flinched at the sound, remembering something, but it didn't stick. He pushed it out of his mind and laughed. "That one was great, Sammy," he said excitedly, perfectly content to remain as he was for as long as possible. He turned to demand that he be handed another firework - and found that there was no one with him.

"Sam?" he called, going to check the Impala with a frown. He wanted to continue firing off fireworks, enjoying his time with a brother who'd looked up to him - who'd loved him without any of the problems that the last few years had brought. A brother who'd been around before college, before their father's death, before demons and God knows what else tore them apart.

He huffed when he couldn't find him. The crate of fireworks that had been on the ground by the Impala was gone, too. "Jerk," he grumbled under his breath, leaning against the Impala with care. Even now thoughts were trying to creep in, but he pushed them back.

Or at least he was trying as the radio suddenly crackled to life in his car. He frowned at the open driver-side window and then jumped when a voice he knew well filled his ears. "Dean!"

" _Cas_?" he sputtered, caught by surprise. He slid into the car as Castiel confirmed that he was the one speaking to him. "You gotta stop poking around in my dreams, Cas, I need some me time."

"This isn't a dream," Castiel said grimly. His voice was darkened with a hint of anger. Dean said nothing and Castiel, as if knowing his thoughts, said warningly, "Deep down, you already know what this is, Dean."

Images flashed through Dean's head. He could practically hear the crack of the gunshot as Sam hit the ground dead, feel the brief sensation of agonizing pain that had ripped through him before he'd turned around and found himself staring at a small version of Sam, smiling brightly at Dean with his arms laden with fireworks. "I'm dead," he muttered, disgusted. Which meant Sam was, too. "Where's Alex?" He paused, and then added, "Where am _I_?"

"Heaven," Castiel said, entirely bypassing the question about Alex. Dean noticed that. A frown appeared on his face, and he eyed the radio. Where was the second-to newest member of their weird little family? "Please listen, this spell...this connection...it's difficult to maintain."

"Where's Alex?" he repeated. "And if I'm in Heaven, then where's my brother?" He refused to accept that this was Heaven when Sam wasn't standing there alongside him. Sammy had been there for a few moments, but something told him it hadn't been his Sam.

"What do you see? Some people see a tunnel, or a river. What do _you_ see, Dean?" Castiel's voice was odd, as if it would soon cut out. Dean had no doubt with their luck, it would.

"Nothing," Dean said irritably. "My dash, because I'm in my car. I'm on a road. Damn it, Cas, where's the mutt? Is she okay? Did someone go after her, too?"

Castiel was almost inaudible as he ordered Dean, "Alright, a road. For you, it's a road. Follow that road, Dean, and you'll find Sam." The radio began crackling violently. "Alex is-" Nothing but silence; the radio had gone out. Dean smacked a hand on the steering wheel with a scowl, but then started the Impala.

He was pissed, he realized as he coaxed the Impala forward. He kept his window rolled down to let in fresh air as he drove, eyeing the massive moon that was abnormally large in the starless deep purple sky that seemed to go on forever above his head. It would have been beautiful if he'd not been so worried about Sam and frustrated with the fact that they just couldn't catch a goddamn break.

It seemed like he'd been driving for some time when he saw a shadow appear in the darkness. There were some lights shining brightly from within it and Dean ducked his head a little as he squinted at it. Deciding he might as well try the house, he pulled his car over in front of it. His lips pressed together as he climbed out, eyeing it warily. The house wasn't one he knew at all. That didn't bode well.

Dean strode up to the front door and found it unlocked when he tried the knob. He didn't really care at this point that he was technically breaking and entering; he wanted to find his brother and get the hell out of dodge, figure out if Alex and Bobby were okay. Something wasn't sitting right with him regarding the skinwalker; he got the feeling that there was something going on with her that he didn't know about. He didn't like it. And that just confused the hell out of him.

He took a moment to listen after prying open the door and heard voices from the next room over. Dean quietly closed the door shut behind him and followed the sound.

The sight before him both angered and upset him greatly. "Wow," he said, arching a brow as he looked at his brother seated among a bunch of people he didn't know, clearly enjoying a delightful Thanksgiving dinner. "Just...wow."

Sam, who'd looked over at the sound of Dean, stared at him in surprise and confusion. "Dean? What are you doing in my dream?"

Dean scowled in response and ducked into the nearby living room. Sam glanced at the family he sat with, who'd not responded at all to Dean's sudden appearance. Slowly, he stood, and they continued their conversation as if he was still there. Sam frowned and finally just hurried for the living room, eager to know what was going on. "Dean, seriously, what the hell are you doing in my dream? This is weird. Weirder than normal."

"Rise and shine, sunshine," Dean said, a bit of a bite to his voice as he folded his arms, peeking out through a window. "This isn't a dream. It's Heaven."

"...Heaven," Sam said blankly, staring at Dean with a hint of disbelief on his face. Sam frowned when Dean nodded curtly. "Okay, how are _we_ ," he gestured between the pair of them, "in _Heaven_?"

"All that clean living, I guess," was Dean's cranky response. He was annoyed, angry with Sam for a reason he couldn't put his finger on at the moment. More than likely the fact that Sam hadn't been looking for him, and had been content to have dinner with a random group of people.

"No, no," Sam said with a somewhat bitter laugh. "Okay. You, I get. Sure. But _me_? Maybe you haven't noticed, but I've done a few things?" Sam had done more than a few things last he'd checked. He'd killed a good few people in his lifetime. When Dean pointed out that Sam had thought he was doing the right thing, Sam replied curtly, "Last I checked, it wasn't the road to Heaven that was paved with good intentions, Dean." He glanced over his shoulder, studying the family with a suddenly thoughtful look. "You know, when you bite the dust? They say your life flashes before your eyes." Dean waited with a glare. "This house, it's one of my memories. This was my first real Thanksgiving. Maybe that's what Heaven is: a place where you relieve your greatest hits."

Dean expressed his unhappiness with this being Sam's version of Heaven almost immediately. "What are you talking about?" he said irritably. "We had Thanksgiving every year." He loved those holidays with his brother. Maybe they'd not been what others had had, but they were still enjoyable for him.

Before Sam could respond the house began to shake around them. Both stilled, exchanging worried looks when the lights suddenly shut off. "Hide," Dean said immediately, getting a gut feeling that it was what they needed to do.

The pair bolted for different hiding places. Sam hung awkwardly off to the side by a window while Dean crouched behind the couch. Dean winced when the glass around them broke from the loud sound that suddenly filled the air alongside a bright light that suddenly streamed through the windows. Dean pressed himself into the floor, worried. Whatever that was, it couldn't be good. He noted a radio on the mantelpiece, remembering how Castiel had gotten into contact with him, and decided to go and see what could be done to get back into contact with him when given the chance.

It was sometime before the light vanished. When it finally had, the lights flickered back on in the house. Sam and Dean emerged reluctantly, wary, and Dean made a beeline for the radio that he had seen. "What the hell was that?" Sam demanded

"I don't know," Dean muttered, "but we're getting back downstairs." He slammed a fist on the radio. "Cas!" Sam lifted his brows in amusement when Dean hit the radio again. "Castiel!"

"I can hear you," crackled Castiel's voice from the static-filled TV behind them. Both spun around and stared for a moment. Castiel's image rolled across the screen, then vanished.

"Cas," Dean said, relieved. "I found Sam. Something just happened. Weird beam of light. What do you know?"

"Don't go into the light."

"Okay," he replied sarcastically. "Thanks, Carol Ann. What was it?"

"Not what. Whom. Zachariah is searching for you."

"And if he finds us?" Sam asked nervously, not liking the idea whatsoever.

Castiel's image didn't change as it rolled across the screen again. "You can't say yes to Michael and Lucifer if you're dead, so he wants to return to your bodies." When the pair grew excited, confident that it was what they needed and definitely wanted, Castiel interrupted. "No, you don't understand. You're behind the Wall. This is a rare opportunity. You need to find an angel named Joshua."

Dean scowled. "You find him."

"I can't. I can't return to Heaven. You have to find Joshua. The rumor is that he talks to God."

"So?" Dean's challenge was met by an incredulous scoff.

"You think maybe, just _maybe_ , we should find out what the hell God has been saying?" Castiel snapped at him, furious with Dean for not agreeing that it was a necessity. Dean grumbled, but said nothing more against the matter before Castiel said, "I just need you to follow the road." When Sam questioned the road, the angel explained, "It's called the Axis Mundi. It's a path that runs through Heaven. Different people see it as different things. For one it's two-lane asphalt. The road will lead you to the Garden, where you'll find Joshua. Joshua can take us to God."

They muttered their agreement. Eager to know and knowing that Castiel was going to cut out soon simply because their luck never gifted them otherwise, Dean demanded, "Where's Alex?"

The picture started to break up on the screen a little, confirming Dean's suspicions. "I'm watching her." That wasn't reassuring, Dean thought, hearing the wariness in his voice. "Avery is with Bobby. Alex is-" The call finally cut out.

"Damn it," Dean seethed, looking as if he was going to kick the damn TV. He turned to Sam, who was watching him with lifted brows, amused by the clear annoyance Dean felt over the lack of information on their skinwalker companion. "Okay, let's hit the yellow bricks and find this Joshua guy."

"Really?" Sam said, surprised that Dean was willing to do it. He'd been so against it. Dean glared, suspicious that he didn't want to find this guy, and Sam said hastily, "I'm surprised you want to find him. I mean, last time I checked, you wanted to break God's nose. Now you think He can help?"

Dean shrugged. "He's the only one who can. I mean, come on, Sam. We're screwed anyway. So prayer? Last hope of a desperate man." He sent the TV a dirty look. "Second time he's failed to get info on Alex out though. The hell is she doing? Avery's with Bobby, so where's she?"

"Someone's worried," Sam teased and then folded his arms as he peered out the window. "Hey," he said suddenly. "Wasn't there a street out there?" Dean peeked out and scowled; there certainly had been.

Now they had to find it again.

* * *

"This is a bad idea, Alex," Castiel warned her as she stood between he and Gabriel, who seemed to be ignoring them both for the moment. The odd-looking trio earned a few curious looks; Alex ignored them all, used to them. "You should wait until the Winchesters come back to do this."

"I'm not going anywhere near those freaks," Gabriel said cheerfully. "And don't think I've missed those odd conversations you've been having every few hours, Cassie boy!"

Alex flashed her friend a curious look. Castiel grimaced and explained hastily to her, "I was able to get into contact with them using a small spell, but it's difficult to maintain. Dean's found Sam and they're following a path to Joshua, who might be able to tell us more about what God's been saying."

"You didn't tell me that!" she huffed, furious. "Where are they?"

"Heaven," he admitted.

" _Cas_ ," she seethed, glaring at him. He'd mentioned it was possible, but hadn't told her he'd actually done it. "Why didn't you tell me?" At least they were safe, though, she supposed.

Gabriel clucked his tongue before Castiel could respond, suddenly serious. "Barachiel's looking for you."

They both looked to him, waiting for further explanation. He didn't grant it to them, merely narrowing his eyes a little. Castiel stiffened, as if sensing something that Alex didn't have a clue about, and then furrowed his brow. "He knows that you're here as well, Gabriel."

"Yeah, but he doesn't know Ally's here," Gabriel replied.

Alex snapped her jaws, a violent growl ripping from her throat. "Don't call me that, you arrogant-"

"Language, Alex," Gabriel chided before she could finish and then grew serious again. "I want to catch him. He's a tricky one, used to be one of Dad's favorites. He's slippery. I need to corner him. He doesn't break bargains, so we'll need to make a good one with him. Alex, you're aware of what you need to do?"

"I'm not a bloody idiot," she said from between her gritted teeth. "I know precisely what I'm doing, Gabriel."

The plan was a simple one. The second she was alone, Alex would summon Barachiel. All of the symbols had been etched in chalk on the concrete of the parking lot they'd chosen, the stone bowl she'd found in the trunk of her car planted right among them and filled with the supplies. Everything was ready for that part. And when he appeared, Alex would make a bargain with him. He was going to meet with someone of Alex's choice in exchange for an upfront meeting with Castiel.

Alex had to admit that it wasn't a bad plan. Granted, Barachiel would have to do what they expected him to do. That would be the only troublesome part. She suddenly frowned at Gabriel. "What exactly is it that you want to talk to him about, Gabriel?"

Gabriel gave her a tight smile, surprisingly serious about the matter. "None of your concern, Alex."

"I kind of think it is," she quipped back. Her lips pressed into a tight line. "I'm talking to him for you. I wasn't going to deal with him for some time. So you can tell me that much. Actually, I have a lot of questions for you." Alex folded her arms. "Since you're an archangel and all."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. "I'll answer _some_ ," he stressed the word pointedly, " _after_ we're done." A pause as he smirked and put a hand over his heart. "Cross my heart."

Alex studied him for a few moments, debating whether or not she should trust him regarding the matter. Finally, she decided to trust him about it. "Fine," she said, jaw clenched, "but if you don't answer my questions, I'm siccing the Winchesters on you again."

He flicked his tongue. "Not recommended, Ally." She snapped her teeth at him. "Remember what happened last time?" Before she could answer, the archangel had vanished with a simple fluttering of feathers. Alex grumbled, glaring at the space he'd been in before focusing on Castiel. He looked serious - reluctant, even.

"I don't like this," he admitted, looking grim. "Barachiel isn't the only angel who'd like to use you, Alex. The Winchesters are avoiding Zachariah, and he wouldn't hesitate to-"

"They're my friends, but they wouldn't do what Zachariah wants for me," Alex said dismissively despite remembering what Sam had told her before she'd left. She'd heard his words, had considered them, but she didn't believe them. And maybe Sam would help her out, but not Dean. She knew she'd do a lot for the pair of them. She _had_ done a lot for them in the past. Especially Dean. She'd taken care of a horrible-tempered Sam and picked up the pieces of Dean's body for him. She couldn't say she was sure he'd do the same, no matter what the future Zachariah had dropped them into had been like.

Castiel didn't look as if he agreed, but said nothing about the matter. "I'll try and figure out where they are. They're searching for Joshua. He should be able to give us information on where God is."

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "I know that you're trying your best to find Him, Cas, but I don't think that road is the one you should be on. There are other roads where your help would be more beneficial." She shooed him with her hands. "Now go catch up with the Winchesters so I can deal with Barachiel."

Castiel didn't need to hear any more; the angel vanished as Gabriel had.

Alone, Alex took a deep breath.

"Here we go," she muttered, and began to mutter the words to the spell that would bring Barachiel to where she stood.

* * *

Dean was admittedly ticked as he stepped outside of the room that Sam had known so well. His brow furrowed in interest. He didn't recognize where they were exactly. "What memory is this?" he muttered aloud, realizing that they now stood in the middle of the street that crossed beside an old house with a porch that wrapped around it.

"No idea," Sam said, and just the tone of his voice told Dean that he was lying. "Alright, come on. Dean...road. God. Remember?"

"Wait a minute." It struck Dean as he stared around at where they were and his hands trembled a little in anger as he realized for a third time that they were in another of Sam's memories - a third that he thought of fondly but Dean found to be one of the worst moments of his life. "This is the night you ditched us for Stanford. This is your idea of Heaven?" He gave a pained laugh, furious with his brother and upset beyond belief. "This was one of the worst nights of my life." Sam winced, and Dean sent him a half-glare. He was more disappointed than anything. " _This_ is a happy memory for you?"

"I don't know." Sam clearly felt guilty about it. "I mean, I was on my own. I finally got away from Dad."

Dean's jaw worked furiously as he considered that. He'd not gotten to get away from their dad like that. Not that he'd wanted to, he guessed. He could have ditched John Winchester and gone off like Sam had, but still. "I know," Dean said bitterly, "You just didn't think of it like I did, right?" Sam protested, but Dean cut him off. "Your version of Heaven is somebody else's Thanksgiving. It's bailing on your family."

Sam scowled, bothered that Dean was getting so angry with him about things he wasn't entirely in control of. He briefly considered that the angels were doing this on purpose, to rile them up. "I just don't look at family the way you do."

Something about that wounded Dean deeply. He'd gone to _Hell_ to bring his little brother back from the dead. He merely shook his head, admittedly miserable about the matter. Family was everything to him. Sam was the one he cared for most, no matter how little it was said aloud. Bobby was a close second, and even Alex and Castiel were squirming their way further in.

That wriggling worry over the skinwalker wormed its way back into his attention and Dean scowled. He hoped that Castiel started spitting out words first and foremost about where she was when he somehow got into contact with them again.

Sam looked ready to start speaking again before suddenly freezing when a mass of light suddenly landed on them. Both froze for a moment, and then took off sprinting for the tree line at the edge of the road. "Go!" Dean shouted, running as hard as he could. "Go!"

They pushed themselves as hard as they could and when Dean felt they'd gone far enough, they ducked behind a fallen log, heaving for air. They exchanged alarmed looks when footsteps filled their ears.

 _Shit,_ Dean wanted to snarl when Zachariah's voice filled the air. "Wow," he called sarcastically, voice ringing out through the otherwise silent forest. "Running from angels. On foot. In Heaven. With out-of-the-box thinking like that, I'm surprised you two haven't stopped the Apocalypse already!"

A soft snap of fingers echoed out and then the night sky turned bright and blue. The sun shone down through the pine trees that towered above them as the angel continued.

"Guys, what's the problem?" he tried. "I just want to send you back to Earth, that's all!" Sam pressed his mouth into a hard line and peered back. He shot back down a moment later. _Close_ , he mouthed to his brother. Dean nodded curtly, pushing his annoyance with Sam to the back of his mind. He could be angry with him later. "I mean, that is, after I tear you a cosmos of new ones! You're on my turf now, boys. And by the time I'm through with you, you're going to be begging to say yes."

 _Go_ , Sam mouthed and they tore off. It did them no good. They'd barely gotten a few feet before Zachariah appeared in front of them. He smiled maliciously as they skittered to a stop, his eyes glittering in a way that made Dean nervous. "Guys, c'mon," he purred. "You can run...but you won't get anywhere."

Dean, furious, flipped him off and then turned and bolted back in the direction they had come, Sam hot on his heels. Zachariah laughed, as if enjoying the chase that was going on. Sam was heaving desperately for air when a figure suddenly darted out in front of them. He grunted in surprise when he nearly ran right into the masked person. Dean stopped, ready to throw down with whatever had gone after Sam, but blinked when the figure shushed them and gestured for them to follow, hissing, "Hurry! This way."

They exchanged a quick look and then gave in, jogging after the strange person. He led them swiftly to a shack that stood nearly hidden in the forest around them and Dean eyed it suspiciously as the person ducked in. The doors were rusted iron, symbols that were vaguely familiar etched into the walls.

When they were waved inside, both ducked through the entrance, and blinked in surprise upon entering the incredibly dark area. The person snickered as he removed the mask from his face and tucked them under his arm. "Buenos dias, bitches," he said proudly.

Dean recognized the man on sight despite barely being able to see him. "Ash?" He remembered him well. The man who'd occupied Ellen's restaurant, who'd been a genius who drank himself into a stupor on a regular basis. Sam looked just as stunned when he glanced at him.

Ash smirked, clapping his hands. Lights sprang on, and he grinned widely at them as Sam looked around in awe recognizing where they were. It was the very place Ash had occupied - where they'd been welcomed warmly by Ellen herself. No longer was Ellen's Roadhouse a charred disaster.

"Good God," Dean breathed as a jukebox kicked on in the corner. "It even smells the same."

"Bud, blood, and beer nuts," Ash said happily as he ducked behind the bar, snapping his fingers at them. "How 'bout a cold one? Up here? No hangover."

Slowly, Sam and Dean approached the bar, each taking a seat. Sam cleared his throat, looking as if he was going to start speaking, but Ash cut him off, looking perfectly at home in the Roadhouse as he leaned against the bar. "Welcome to my own personal Heaven." He proceeded to shotgun an entire beer as they stared at him in confusion.

"And when the angels jumped us?" Sam finally said slowly. "We were-"

"In your Heaven," he finished.

"There's two Heavens?"

"No," Ash corrected, "more like a hundred billion. No worries, it'll take those angel boys a minute to catch up." Dean slapped his hands to the bar, honestly confused by what he was talking about, so Ash explained, "See, you gotta stop thinking of Heaven as one place, man. It's more like a bunch of places all crammed together. Like Disneyland." He held up a hand, ticking off his fingers. "See, you got Winchesterland, Ashland, a whole mess of everybody else's lands...put them all together and what do you get? Heaven. And you know what's right at the center of it all? The Magic Kingdom. The Garden."

What Castiel wanted them to find, Dean remembered. He leaned forward. "So everybody gets a little slice of paradise."

"Pretty much. A few people share though. Special cases and what not." When they peered curiously at Ash, he shrugged. "Soulmates. Anyway, most people can't leave their own private Idahos."

"But you left," Sam pointed out with a frown, tapping his fingers on the bar.

Ash grinned. "I got skills. Hell, I've been all over. Johnny Cash. Andre the Giant. Einstein. Hell, I found the author of the Kama Sutra the other day."

"All this from a guy who used to sleep on a pool table," Dean murmured, unable to believe what he was hearing. He shook his head, although he couldn't say he wasn't displeased. At least he was happy. "So how'd you find us?"

"I rigged up my very own holy-rolling police scanner," Ash declared and dropped to shuffle around beneath the bar. He came up with a laptop a moment later, starting it up after prying it open. It was a few moments before it emitted a very loud and familiar piercing sound that Dean knew well. It was the sound that had nearly burst his eardrums. And Alex's, too. "That's angels. Blabbing Enochian, right? I'm fluent." He put the laptop away when Dean gave him a glare. "I heard that you were up, so I had to come find you."

Sam suddenly spoke, entirely serious and quiet. His face was hopeful. "Have you found anyone else? Ellen and Jo?"

"Ellen and Jo are dead?" Ash said, jerking a little in shock. Dean's face filled with grief as he looked down. Sam looked back at him sorrowfully.

"Yeah, a few months now. Sorry."

Ash cleared his throat, looking just as sad about it as they did. "Um, they went down fighting?" he finally said quietly. Sam nodded without another word.

"And a lot of good it did," Dean said bitterly. He would never forget the final moments in which he'd seen the pair of strong women. He'd helped put them in their non-existent grave - and that wasn't something he'd forget either. "How 'bout our folks?"

Ash shook his head. "I've been looking all over for John Winchester, Mary, too. But so far, nada. I'm sorry." He shrugged and then suddenly lit up. "But hey! There's somebody that wants to jaw with you. Hold up!"

He darted from around the bar and disappeared into a backroom at the back of the Roadhouse. Dean and Sam watched him go and then exchanged curious looks. "Who do you think it is?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. "Hopefully someone helpful," was his response. As helpful as Ash had been...they needed a bit more than he could offer. It was a few minutes before Ash returned with the person he'd mentioned, and when he did, Dean found himself grinning broadly.

Pamela smiled back at them, dark eyes twinkling as if they'd never been burned out. "Nice to see you again, boys."

* * *

Barachiel appeared, looking as agitated as he usually did, before her and Alex set her jaw and bit the urge to try and strike him down back. There was just something about the way he looked at her in such a condescending way… His green eyes narrowed at her as he gave her a once over and said, "You, Alex Montgomery, are more trouble than you're with."

For a guardian angel, he seemed to dislike his charge more and more with each meeting they had. Alex ran her fingers along the blade that rippled into existence before vanishing again. "I try," she said with a smirk. "I want to make a deal with you."

Amusement crossed his features. "I'm not a demon, Alexandriana," he murmured, although he rocked forward. "But I'm fond of bargains, so I'll listen. I make no promises. Tell me what Gabriel intends to give me in exchange for a meeting." Alex stiffened and a wicked smile crossed Barachiel's mouth. "I'm not stupid. You wouldn't have summoned for something so silly...although I'm rather insulted that you haven't even considered sending me to retrieve the Winchesters."

"They're busy," Alex said, her stomach twisting at the fact that he'd bring something like that up. She was willing to bet for a good deal he'd bring them back, too. Not that they'd be very happy about it. "If you know that Gabriel wants to meet, do you not know what we're offering?"

"I don't play games, I create them. Gabriel may be a trickster, but I am a commander of many." Barachiel snorted, as if insulted, but she didn't care if he was insulted or not. "I dropped Avery Hunt in the middle of nowhere, knowing it'd drag you away from the Winchesters while others hunted them. I don't find myself fond of you, but you're still the Soldier. You're still needed, and I have my orders. I know Gabriel wants to talk. So I initiated the circumstances that would allow it. Do not take me for a fool, Alex, I know everything that is happening and I know what I want to happen, and it _will_ happen."

Alex stared at him. Her heart twisted with pain as she said, "You…you do this on purpose. You keep me alive, but you make sure that everyone around me gets hurt." If he was the one who'd ditched her friend in the middle of nowhere, half-dead, then that meant -

"You," she breathed, "if you can organize a situation that another archangel fell into, then you made everything that happened possible. You told the demons about Matt's family, or you let it slip at least. You made it so that we were tortured for hours. You're the reason my brother's dead." Her breath hitched, tears burning in the back of her eyes. "You did it on purpose just because you could."

He didn't bat an eye. "Of course. You have to break someone in order to be able to use them. Why do you think Zachariah torments the three of you as he does? We have our jobs. Mine is to make sure that the Soldier is alive and nothing more."

She could have asked Gabriel, she supposed, but Alex clenched her jaw and said to Barachiel, "What exactly _is_ the Soldier?"

"You don't know?" he mocked, and she glared at him. He knew fully well that she didn't know what the Soldier was. A laugh escaped him. "The Soldier is a tool meant for balance. The middle child meant to decide who wins, who loses, who sacrifices, who lives. Meant to shoulder the responsibility that Michael and Lucifer can't deal with, because they're too busy fighting with one another to notice everything else as the world falls apart around them. The one intended to be Gabriel's vessel, to pick up the pieces of what remains and continue on. That part became impossible the second you became infected with disease, though."

She stared at him in stunned silence, unable to fully comprehend what he'd said entirely. Gabriel's vessel. That explained a lot regarding Gabriel and why he didn't care much for her, explained everything he'd said to she and the Winchesters after everything that had happened. It explained so much.

Yet…

It wasn't what she'd wanted to hear.

She had no doubt that if, in some odd way, her path had been laid out long ago, then "picking up the pieces…"

Cleaning up after the hellhounds had torn into Dean had been practice for when Lucifer and Michael used their vessels to tear each other apart.

Alex lifted her chin and rather than giving him some kind of mournful response like she knew he likely wanted, she said, "Are you going to speak with Gabriel on your own then? Since you're so smart and set everything up?"

"No. I won't speak with Gabriel unless I'm given what I want." His gaze flickered with greed. "I want my young brother's favorite coat, Alexandriana."

"Then speak with Gabriel," Alex told him. She made no promises of Castiel, determined to see if he'd force her to promise it aloud. If she didn't promise it aloud, then when he'd spoken with Gabriel, she'd not need to follow through. "He certainly wants to speak with you. God knows why."

Barachiel's lips quirked at her comment. "Fine."

Alex didn't even need to shout for the other archangel, he appeared a few feet away with a smug look on his face. There was a hard glint in his eyes, however, razor sharp. He was anything but happy with Barachiel, she realized, and her hand rested lightly on the hilt of her blade just in case something went down. She wished the Winchesters were there, even with Castiel ready to step in for her. Facing angels was one thing; she had two archangels before her, both of which held strong dislike for her. One had tormented her; the other had tortured her. She wasn't too excited to be standing there alone.

"Hello, Barachiel," Gabriel sang, earning a scowl from him. "Long time, no see. Glad to see you've stopped running." Gabriel's smile widened at his annoyance. "You know what I want. If you don't cut it out, I'll make sure that Ally here gets the chance to end you permanently."

"Some kind of brother you are," Barachiel muttered, baring his teeth at him.

Alex was too interested to bother making a comment on the nickname. Gabriel hadn't made a single threat towards the other angels. He had expressed his immense unhappiness with Lucifer and Michael, but she couldn't recall him ever threatening to kill any of them. He'd even taken himself out of the equation to avoid the matter.

So what was Barachiel doing to piss him off that much?

Barachiel snorted and folded his arms, shifting his weight and looking very comfortable despite the tense situation. "You believe that I will stop doing my job to satisfy your desires, Gabriel?"

Gabriel's eyes flashed. "Your job does not involve stealing pieces of other angels to try and erase their existence, to see if you can shove their strength into yourself." Alex' face flashed with alarm. "And I can promise you that our all powerful Father wouldn't like it, whether he's around or not." His face twisted briefly with irritation, as if he was annoyed that God wasn't there. "And while we're at it, you can call it quits on the Soldier."

Alex kept silent as Barachiel practically snarled at Gabriel, her stomach churning. What was _that_ supposed to mean? she wondered warily, glancing at him. Was she about to be murdered or something similar?

"You're not God," Barachiel said icily, "and you can't tell me to do anything."

The skinwalker nearly choked out a laugh at that; he sounded like a child. Despite her gut telling her to shut and sit back, Alex rumbled out a low growl, catching his attention. "You know, there's this rumor going around that an angel named Joshua speaks to God." It was Barachiel's turn to look worried. "The boys are currently making their way through Heaven to speak with him. I wonder if just one little push from Cas would have them telling him all about what you're doing." she wasn't sure about the extent of what the archangel had been up to regarding the stealing of angel pieces, what he intended to do with that power and how he was doing it. But she knew he didn't want anyone knowing. "And if Joshua knew, then God would possibly know. I wonder what your Father up above would think."

"Stay out of this," Barachiel snapped at her, eyes flashing dangerously. "You're not a part of this. You may hold the title of Soldier, but you're nothing more than a diseased mutt who should have been put down the second you were infected."

Alex arched a marred brow and said, "Tell me something I don't know, and then I'll consider taking your comments to heart, Barachiel." She spared a glance at Gabriel and found him snickering under his breath. She rolled her eyes. Such a child. She turned her back on Barachiel, feeling a little lighter than she had initially.

Barachiel wouldn't be bothering them much from the point on. She could feel it as Gabriel gave Barachiel a final warning before the archangel spat at him and vanished.

"Feeling sentimental about your should-be vessel?" Alex mused without much agitation towards the matter. He appeared to have one, and it wasn't like he was trying to make her give her body up for that. He seemed perfectly pleased with the vessel he'd been using.

Gabriel merely snorted and muttered, glaring at where Barachiel had stood, "Our brothers are killing each other as is. We don't need one thinking himself above the rest simply because he's the one in charge of guardian angels."

Alex hummed in response and then looked over at him when he spoke again. "Thank you."

She blinked at him in response and then offered a hesitant smile. "And thank you for helping me find Avery. It means a lot. Although...why do you care? I mean, he said that I was your original vessel, although I suppose that's clearly changed." She waved to herself. "So why care now?"

Gabriel snickered before growing serious. "There's a difference between screwing with someone and tormenting them. I screwed with you all to try and get this mess over with. Barachiel's needlessly tormenting you just because he can. Just because I'm an archangel doesn't mean I have to be a dick, too."

And then he was gone, and Alex stood alone in a parking lot, her gaze thoughtfully remaining on the space he'd occupied. He'd been a dick to them previously, she supposed, narrowing her eyes. But he wasn't on Barachiel's level. She shook her head to clear it and turned away.

* * *

Dean winced at the sting of pain that accompanied a swat to the back of his head. "That's for getting me killed," Pamela told him, though she didn't look too bothered by the matter. Dean rubbed the back of his head as she dropped her hand to the table they were sitting at. Sam chatted with Ash about something or another nearby, working together on something.

"That's...probably less than I deserve," Dean muttered. "Makes you feel any better, we got Ash killed, too."

"I'm cool with it!" shouted Ash from where he was, snapping his fingers at Dean. Dean rolled his eyes and focused back on Pamela when she gave a throaty chuckle.

"I'm good," Pamela told him. "Really. Remember my death scene? Gut shot, coughing blood...you told me I was going some place better." Dean's gaze flickered at the memory; he knew precisely what she was talking about. He'd been lying, thinking only of Hell at the time. "You were right," she declared, much to his surprise. "My Heaven? It's one long show at the Meadowlands. It's amazing." Her eyes shone at the thought of it, and Dean nodded slowly, not entirely agreeing with her. She noticed. "You don't believe me," she murmured.

"I do," he insisted. "It's just...spending eternity trapped in your own little universe while the angels run the show...it's lonely. That's not Nirvana, that's the Matrix."

Her lips quirked. "I don't know, but the attic's still better than the basement."

"Yeah, but…" Dean shook his head, unable to explain how he felt.

"Look," she replied, smiling warmly at him, "I'm happy. I'm at peace."

Dean narrowed his gaze at her suspiciously. "Are you trying to sell me a timeshare? I mean, what's with the pitch?"

"I know that Michael wants to take you out for a test drive," was her answer, and he stiffened, frowning. She held a hand up to stop him from speaking. "Just saying," said Pamela. "What happens if you play ball with them? Worst case."

"A lot of people die."

"And then they come up here," Pamela replied. "Is that really so bad? Look, maybe you don't have to fight it so hard, that's all I'm trying to say, Dean."

Dean shook his head in disagreement. "Alex wouldn't," he pointed out. She winced, as if she'd been caught on a matter she'd been trying to avoid. "Skinwalkers...vampires...all of those things. Where do _they_ go?"

"Who knows?" Pamela said with a shrug. "But it's like one big adventure, right? No one ever knows."

Dean couldn't say he liked that. He got the feeling Alex would be one of the first to go if the angels - particularly archangels and Zachariah - were given the chance, and he had no idea on where she'd end up. A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he turned in his seat. "Hey, Ash." Ash glanced over. "Alex's folks...Matt. They up here?"

Ash shrugged. "I don't know. Can't know everyone that's up here, my friend." He grinned and gave them a thumbs up. "We found a shortcut to the Garden, by the way." Pamela chuckled as Dean glared at his brother for not saying anything sooner.

After a quick series of goodbyes that involved Pamela being just as handsy as Dean remembered and Ash promising to keep some beer on ice for them, Sam and Dean stepped through the front door, both looking a little disappointed about the matter of leaving behind Ellen's Roadhouse.

Those thoughts soon vanished, however, when they found themselves inside a darkened room. Distantly, the whistle of a train filled their ears. Dean spun in a slow circle, mouth pressed into a hard line. "Home," he muttered. Lawrence, Kansas. He'd always remember this house. Would always remember the smoke billowing from the windows, his father ordering him to take Sam outside. "C'mon, let's-"

"Dean," Sam breathed, staring at something over his shoulder.

Dean looked and the breath was sucked right out of him. "Honey, why are you up?" asked Mary from where she was frowning at him, looking just as he remembered her looking on the night she'd died.

Shaken, Dean said, "Look, I'm sorry. I love you, but you're not real, and we don't have time-" She tried to speak again, but Dean said firmly, "I gotta go."

"Then how about I tell you about my nightmare, Dean?" she suddenly purred as Dean took a step back. Sam's face went white as blood suddenly began pooling in the white material resting on her stomach. "The night I burned."

"Sammy," Dean breathed, grabbing Sam's shoulder and pushing him back. Sam stumbled a little, his face full of horror as he stared at her. "We need to get out of here."

"Don't you walk away from me," snarled Mary, her face cold with rage. Her eyes became yellow between blinks, and Dean's stomach churned. _Azazel_. The name was one he'd admittedly not thought of in a while. Not since Lucifer had come to town. Not even since before Hell.

"The worst was the smell." He was going to be sick. "The pain? Well...what can you say about your skin bubbling off? But the smell was so...you know, for a second, I thought I'd left a pot roast burning in the oven. But it was _me_ , burning." Dean felt behind him, trying to find the door that they'd come through. There was nothing but brick beneath his fingertips. "And then, _finally_ , I was dead. The one silver lining was that at least I was away from you." Dean stilled, heart aching at the words. "Everybody leaves you, Dean. You noticed? Mommy. Daddy. Even Sam."

Sam's jaw worked furiously, guilty, because he _had_ left, wanting a life that wasn't with his family, wasn't with hunting. Not that it had worked out that way. And he wasn't the only one. It did seem that way, he thought. The only one who _hadn't_ ditched him like that was Alex, who'd done everything she could after he'd gone to Hell, and suddenly, Dean's concern about the skinwalker made so much more sense to him.

"You ever ask yourself why?" Mary mused. "Maybe it's not them. Maybe it's _you_."

"Easy now," chuckled Zachariah, appearing with the sound of fluttering feathers. Mary gave her children wicked grins, but Zachariah didn't say anything against it as Sam furiously glared at him.

"You did this," Sam accused, hands shaking. "You son of a bitch."

"And I'm just getting started," Zachariah hummed in response. "I mean, _guys_. Did you really think you could just sneak past me into Mission Control?" He snapped his fingers and Dean swore when he suddenly found himself pinned into place by a pair of angels that wore stony expressions on their faces. Sam grumbled when he was forced to deal with the same problem.

"You can gloat all you want," Dean told him snarkily, "you're still bald, you dick."

Zachariah snorted. "In Heaven, I have six wings and four faces, one of whom is a lion. You see this because you're limited." Another snap of his fingers had Mary vanishing, and he stepped forward, grinning. "Let's brass tack this, shall we?" Dean opened his mouth to spit out another aggressive comment, but merely doubled over with a grunt, breath driven out of him by a well-aimed fist on Zachariah's part. "I'm going to do a lot more, boys! I've cleared my schedule. Get him up."

Sam tried to free himself when one of the angels holding his brother in place dragged him upright by the hair. Dean didn't make a sound when another blow landed, this time connecting with his jaw.

"Let me tell you something," Zachariah snarled. "I was on the fast track once. Employee of the month, every month, forever. I would walk these halls and people would avert their eyes! I had _respect_. And then...they assigned me to you. Now look at me." He barked out a bitter laugh, glaring viciously at them. "I can't close the deal on a couple of flannel-wearing maggots! One of which is lower than a bunch of humans. Everybody's laughing at me, and they're right to do it. So!

"Say yes, don't say yes, I'm still going to take it out of your asses." Zachariah spread his hands out with a smirk. "It's personal now, boys. I was the last person in the history of your creation that you wanted as your enemy. Lucifer may be strong, but I'm _petty_. I'm going to be the angel on your shoulder for the rest of eternity."

Zachariah didn't take notice of it, but Dean and Sam certainly did. They stared in surprise at the man that suddenly appeared behind Zachariah. A small, older man with dark skin and ancient eyes studied him before speaking. "Excuse me, sir?"

Zachariah spun on his heel and scowled. "I'm in a meeting," he said icily.

"I'm sorry," he replied, and Sam and Dean exchanged wary looks. "I need to speak with them." He gestured to the Winchesters. Zachariah sputtered, shocked by the demand. "It's a bad time, I know, but I'm afraid I have to insist." He stared Zachariah down. Dean grinned briefly when he shifted uncomfortably. "His orders."

"You're lying," Zachariah said uncertainly, narrowing his eyes.

The man let a smile appear on his face, eyes sharper than a blade. "I wouldn't lie about His will. Look, fire me if you want. Sooner or later, He's going to come back home and you know how He is with that whole wrath thing."

Zachariah considered this and then vanished. Dean and Sam grimaced, suddenly freed. Between one blink and the next, the house in Lawrence disappeared, replaced by a beautiful vibrant green garden, surrounded by trees. From where he stood, the angel mused, "You see what you want to here. For some...it's God's throne room. For others, it's Eden. You two, I believe it's the Cleveland Botanical Gardens. You came here on a field trip."

The man lifted his chin proudly. "I'm the one you've been seeking. I am Joshua."

* * *

Alex had just finished loading the things she'd used to summon Barachiel into her car when Castiel appeared quite suddenly beside her. She jumped, squawking furiously, " _Cas_!"

"Sorry," the angel responded, although he didn't look it. He edged back a few steps before informing her, "Dean called me." She glanced back questioningly. His blue eyes searched hers for a moment before he added, "They're alive. Joshua returned them to their bodies. He and Sam wish to tell me what he said in person, and Dean said I had to bring you with." He furrowed his brow. "I told him you were alright, but he didn't believe me."

Alex snorted loudly at that. "How touching of Winchester number one," she murmured. "Alright," she said, locking the trunk to her car and holding out her arms. "Whisk me away. Let's see what they found out." Her heart was racing, she realized as Castiel pressed two fingers to her forehead.

They appeared beside the Impala, and Alex fondly touched the sleep black paint. She knew they were alive; Castiel wouldn't lie about something like that. But she wanted proof. She wanted proof that she'd not lost two other people she cared for. Castiel led the way to the door, immediately knowing which motel room they were in, and knocked sharply. "You could have just put us in there," Alex pointed out.

"Dean isn't very happy with me," Castiel admitted, "I wanted to lessen that."

Alex chuckled at his concern for Dean's opinion of him and then focused when the door to the motel room opened and Dean eyed them critically before stepping aside to let them in. Alex didn't hesitate, unable to help the absolute relief that flooded her at the fact that they were actually alive and breathing. Alex threw her arms around his broad chest for a hug, squeezing enough that he grunted but could still breathe.

"Hey, Alex," he muttered, rolling his eyes and surprised her by hugging her back rather tightly. His fingers dug in where they touched, and she furrowed her brow, worried. Something had changed although she couldn't put her finger on what.

She gave it a moment, ensuring she heard a heartbeat, and then released him, stepping back. A growl tugged from her chest. "I can't leave you bloody morons alone for more than a second."

Dean shrugged, kicking the door shut behind them. Alex did a quick scan for Sam, but nodded to herself when she heard the water running in the bathroom. He'd be out eventually. "The hell were you up to while we were dealing with angels? Cas wouldn't tell me." He threw a glare at the quietly watching angel, who huffed softly.

"Playing with archangels," Alex mused. Dean turned to give her an exasperated glare. "Got to deal with Gabriel _and_ Barachiel."

"The hell, Alex?" he snapped. "What'd I say about screwing around with them?"

"Cas wasn't picking up the phone," she said, waving him off, "and it's February, and I was in South Dakota. I needed help finding Avery. Gabriel showed up and was actually fairly decent about everything. I'll tell you more in the car." She wasn't leaving them alone, not again. They were two of the only people she had left in this world, and she wasn't going to risk losing them like that again. "What happened?"

"Got caught by surprise by some hunters," Dean muttered. "Managed to get in and shot us."

Alex growled, baring her teeth. She'd figure out who they were later and hunt them down. She'd leave for that and that alone.

"Alex!" Sam said in surprise as he ducked out of the bathroom, hair wet. He grinned when she immediately strode over and gave him a hug, too, happily returning it. After a moment, he let go, frowning when Castiel demanded to know what Joshua had said.

Dean didn't hold back. "Back off."

"Excuse me?" Alex said, confused, and he waved her off.

"Joshua said that God knows what's going on," Dean continued angrily, scowling at them all. "He knows everything, and apparently it's not His problem. We're not going to find Him, and according to Joshua, God wants us to back off."

"Cas," Alex murmured when something in his expression shattered as he said, "Maybe...maybe Joshua was lying,"

"I don't think he was, Cas," Sam said sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

Castiel stared at them for a few moments before looking up, as if seeking any sign of the person he'd been hunting for the last few months. Finally, he just shook his head, digging in his pocket. He tossed something to Dean, muttering, "I don't need this anymore, it's worthless." He turned away, ignoring Sam's protests as he vanished.

Dean studied the amulet that Castiel had borrowed so long ago, touching it gingerly before shaking his head and grabbing his bag. "Let's go," he muttered, striding for the door. Sam and Alex watched him as he opened the door, and then paused, studying the amulet. Without hesitation, he dropped it into the trash and then ducked outside without looking back.

Sam let out a saddened sound, and Alex slowly picked her way over to the trashcan, not hesitating to reach past the beer cans that had been shoved into it. She gently withdrew the amulet that she knew better than any other, the amulet she'd pulled from Dean's neck for Sam after he'd been ripped apart by hellhounds.

She knew what Dean had intended by the action. There was no faith left to be had in the eternal force that they'd been hoping would help them, but that didn't mean there could be no faith in other matters. Looking back at Sam, she wrapped that necklace around her wrist and tied it there.

Alex had faith that they'd pull through, just as they always did, even if Dean didn't think so. She glanced over to Sam, and found him watching her closely. "What?"

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "For everything that happened back before Dean came back. For ditching you for Ruby. All of it. I'm sorry, Alex."

She blinked at him, caught by surprise. "What brought this on, Sam?"

He only shook his head and grabbed his bag, shouldering it. "Just...stuff with Joshua." He smiled faintly, waving for her to go out the door first. Alex eyed Sam suspiciously, but ducked out. Sam watched her go and let out a gust of air.

They just couldn't catch a break, he thought, and followed suit.

* * *

 _Holy hell I've finally updated. This chapter took some time to write for some reason. But look! More evolving moments between Alex and Dean. We got hugs two chapters in a row._

 _Anyhow, onwards! Nearing the end of season five, and I can't wait for things to happen. ;)_

 _Thanks to reviewers_ _(emily2696 (chapter 1), Savage Kill, and fairyninjaM4!) as well as those who favorited and followed!_


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